


Lies Fly around the World

by Wisetypewriter



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Child Neglect, F/M, Gen, Peacock Miraculous, Peacock!Adrien, Seeing through lies, Toxic friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-08-17 10:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 118,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8140832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wisetypewriter/pseuds/Wisetypewriter
Summary: It was pure chance – luck, good or bad – that he had caught a glimpse of his father in front of his mother's portrait that day. The fact that Adrien had paused and witnessed his father open a safe that had been hidden behind the painting… that was more closely related to Fate. And Fate being kicked in the teeth at that.Lies travel faster than the Truth. But the Blue Peacock will see them all undone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien hadn't. He had nearly shouted it. (“I miss her too!”) But, in the end, like everything, Adrien kept inside and put on his model's smile.

At this point, he might take a call from Chloé, of all things. It would be, if awkward, a really good way to stop _thinking_. Hard to do so when someone was draping themselves over you, physically or emotionally. He liked her – she had her own ways of being kind to him –, but he couldn't recall when they had stopped being purely friends in Chloé's eyes.

 

Was that just the normal way childhood friendships evolved over time? Most of the mangas he read were split on the issue, roughly half and half. Was he weird for not being able to dissociate the cute little blonde girl that had played knights and princess with him from the now aggressively enthusiastic fangirl?

 

“ _Y_ _ou should convince your father to let you come to school with me, Adrikins!”_

 

Adrien's fingers tightened around his pen, and he forced himself to focus on the words being droned in his ears. His notebook looked far too sparse. His father would definitely chide him for being so lax about taking notes during his lessons. _Focus, Adrien. Focus._ It wasn't a day for getting in a confrontation with his father. Even if that one was totally not his fault.

 

For things like physics, chemistry and art, he had his own private tutors. For social studies and anything that required handling people, past or future, he had _Nathalie._

 

His father's assistant was many things, amongst them an efficient, emotionless machine that could squeeze every second of a day into an undrinkable juice of a schedule, but an engaging teacher she wasn't.

 

It was all in her voice. She was so carefully controlled, so even between every syllable, every word that Adrien's thoughts kept drifting. And today was not a good day for stray thoughts.

 

The cold draft created by their air conditioner seemed aimed just out of his way, so he could only feel the hints of much-needed coolness on his left arm. Instead, he felt hot and stuffy, just enough for his head to want to lull against his fist, and he couldn't, he mustn't. Nathalie was right there, pacing back and forth, her pink lips forming sentences that had words in them. Or something. _Mom had worn that shade of lipstick_.

 

That was the moment his brain rebelled and he decided that he needed some fresh air. Or brain bleach, if he was ever so lucky.

 

“Nathalie,” he called so suddenly she startled, “is it okay if we take a bathroom break? I really need to go.”

 

His father's assistant fixed him with a neutral, emotionless stare. Adrien could not help the shivers that ran down his spine at the impression of being seen through. Years of being forced to keep an expression on his face (generally a kind smile or a playful look) for hours on end allowed him not to freak out before Nathalie's searching eyes.

 

Having judged him in whatever ways she had, the emotionless woman brought up her tablet and hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose that we could simply move the planned pause up in your schedule.”

 

For a brief moment, Adrien wished he could remember the first time that going to the bathroom had required thoughtful consideration and bargaining. He had felt something that day. A vague feeling of horror. A flash of memories putting his now daily lot in comparison to the time _she_ had been there with them.

 

“Very well,” she told him, her fingers moving across the screen, “you may take ten minutes. We'll meet again afterward to finish our lesson. Don't be late.”

 

With a hushed “Thank you, Nat.”, Adrien hurried out of his chair, and the dining hall. He needed air. Badly.

 

The only good side to the whole debacle was that there wouldn't be anyone to stop him as he ran through the hallways. In the Agreste household, today was the one day where the bare minimum of staff was kept for things to run smoothly.

 

The first year, Adrien had really wondered why his father couldn't even cut him some slack. The changes in their household hadn't quite been solid enough for him to have known to hold his thoughts. He had complained about it, loudly. It was the closest thing to freedom Adrien knew about.

 

It tasted like ash, but it was what he had. A big empty place and a cold machine of a woman to put him back on track. Father wasn't there.

 

“Why is he ignoring me?” he had asked, last year when the words were clawing at his throat and he thought that it might keep happening every year, on and on.

 

Nathalie had given him a look. The same neutral, detached look as always.

 

But she had looked at _him_.

 

Father hadn't done that. In fact, he had been away from the mansion all day, till late into the night. That last bit, Adrien wouldn't have known if he hadn't been turning fitfully in his bed and seen his car pull into the driveway.

 

The second year, there had been that business trip to England that _conveniently_ required his father's full attention. And the year after. And last year as well. His father simply couldn't free some of his schedule to spend time with him on the day his mother had… gone missing…

 

“Your father prefers grieving on his own time,” Nathalie had told him, matter of fact about the whole thing until her eyes widened and she realized she had spoken out loud. “… Don't tell him I said that.”

 

Adrien hadn't. He had nearly shouted it. (“ _I miss her too!_ ”) But, in the end, like everything, Adrien kept inside and put on his model's smile.

 

Lately, he could feel when the smile cracked and the rift dug into his skin. The photographers hadn't noticed yet, but sometimes, Nathalie's gaze lingered a little longer than usual when she asked him how the shoot went. “Fine,” he told her, the same thing, always.

 

Maybe one day, Father would ask him what he meant by 'Fine' instead of taking it at face value. Maybe even ask for details, wonder how his son's day had gone. Mother had always asked him, even if they had only been separated for a few hours.

 

He was starting to forget what she had sounded like.

 

Never her looks. For that, he had the pictures, and the painting. That tall, haunting painting of his mother hanging above the study. But her voice? The way she moved? The way she laughed when he did a silly thing children do?

 

Sometimes, he didn't quite know if he was imagining what he remembered. He wanted to ask Father, but, of course…

 

Grimacing, Adrien slowed down. He'd gone without a care and he didn't remember how he ended up so close to his father's study. He blushed a little at his own blunder, but at least no one had seen it. He could only imagine what his father would say to that.

 

His father… Well, he wasn't home, right? And Adrien's thoughts slid to the painting he knew was in the study, hanging behind the desk. His mother, looking over the man sitting down, as Adrien remembered, so long ago. Without knowing what he was doing, he felt the urge to go inside, to see the stylized portrait and just…

 

He glanced sideways, just to make sure there wouldn't be a witness to his sneaking in, but failed to look inside the actual room.

 

Adrien nearly tripped on his own feet. His heartbeat shot through the roof, and aimed for the moon. His hand clutched at one of the pillars of stone decorating the room, and he slid behind it as quickly as he could.

 

What was his father doing here? Why was he even in the mansion? He never stayed home on this day of the year! But there he was, as solemn as ever, his signature white vest on, his hair styled in the same typical way, no softness in his traits to ease his angular jaw or his demanding eyes.

 

His father contemplated the painting, his lips silently moving as he remained otherwise immobile. For a moment, Adrien thought he might be having a conversation with his missing wife. And wasn't that a thought that he could hardly reconcile with his father, so keen on never showing emotions?

 

After a moment – seventeen heartbeats, two shallow breathes, an eternity –, Adrien's father put his hands on the right side of the painting's frame and pulled. The shocked gasp that was in Adrien's throat died out as the painting pivoted like a door and offered a glimpse of something behind. His father's body hid much of it, but Adrien could recognize the surface as metallic, at least.

 

There was a bit of shuffling, muffled words as his father spoke toward the things hidden, then closed the metallic panel. Then, the painting.

 

He held his breath when his father walked him by, but Gabriel Agreste's legendary eagle eyes failed him this one time. He didn't see his son flattening himself behind a column. No, the icy blue eyes seemed distant, lost in a fog that made Adrien think of tears. That detail alone nearly made him cry out his father's name.

 

_I'm crying too, dad!_

 

But that would make the world famous designer clam up on every little human emotion he had left. And Adrien did not think he could bear to see the last of his father's humanity die. Nor be the one to bring it about.

 

Adrien looked down at his hands, wondering. He was alone in his father's study, badly hidden by a column, and with a swirl of contradicting emotions inside his chest. Why was there a safe? And in the most cliché'd place imaginable?

 

“I should ignore it,” he told himself immediately, “Father would be mad if I went through his stuff.”

 

Perhaps mad wouldn't be the right word. Mildly emotional? So cold it was difficult to tell him apart from a block of ice? Looking at him as if wondering how Adrien could even be his son, what's with that strange desire for human contact?

 

Yeah, probably that last one.

 

He looked at the painting again, how his mother's body seemed to fade out into the golden dust, with only her head and her neck intact, with the most striking eyes looking on serenely, as gentle as he could remember.

 

No, Adrien decided, he was being unfair. Mom had gone missing, after all. No man would simply risk his son's safety for no reason if he could help it. Bodyguards. Top-of-the-line security. An army of doctors, nutritionists and coaches at his beck and call to ensure that Adrien was as close to perfectly healthy as possible.

 

On an intellectual level, he could understand that it was love. A distant, reserved love, but love nonetheless. If only his father understood that Adrien would be fine with it all if they talked once in awhile! Not just making appointments when something was going wrong, when Adrien made a mistake in one shooting or another. But he was always busy, especially today _of all days_!

 

It hit him so hard Adrien forgot to breath. Not this year. The years before, but not this year. Father had been _home_ for the first anniversary in five years and he still hadn't even tried to talk to him.

 

Adrien was before the painting before he realized he had decided to. He wasn't even sure why. His skin felt burning hot, and he could only repeat to himself, _he was home he was home he was HOME AND I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW._

 

Father was grieving. In his own way. Always in his own way. That was fine. Different people. It was just… What was he even doing? His fingers pried the frame from the wall, half of his whole being flinching at the blasphemous act of defiling one of his mother's memento. The other half was just replicating what his father had done before.

 

It was definitely a safe. Behind his mother's painting. A sizable, metallic safe, with one of those spinning wheel of numbers for the lock.

 

“Am I dreaming?” he asked himself as he thought ' _Is Nathalie looking for me already?_ '

 

Adrien's grip on the spinning wheel slipped, his fingers a bit too slippery, shaking. Gulping, he brushed his hands against his pants and tried again. The numbers were at the front of his mind, as easily remembered as today's date.

 

A rock fell in his stomach, his stupid hope dashed on the spot. That was just him being too emotional. He wasn't thinking clearly.

 

“No way Father would be that obvious,” Adrien grumbled under his breath. Was that how it was going to end?

 

It couldn't. His heartbeat was beating twice as hard as Jagged Stone's drummers during his famous solo. If he didn't get to the bottom of this, he would go insane. Or he would yell at his father. Basically, the same thing.

 

Adrien leaned his forehead against the safe. The cool surface reminded him not to bang his head against the wall in frustration. He only had a few minutes left to spare. What could it be?

 

“Not Mom's. Too obvious. But what other numbers could it be?” The logical thing would be a random number his father had memorized and no one could guess. Gabriel Agreste was not a sentimental fool that was guided by his emotions. He was too carefully guarded.

 

Nathalie's slip up came back to mind. _He grieves in his own time._

 

Adrien tried his own birthday.

 

The safe clicked.

 

Adrien's heart did a cartwheel, then slumped.

 

_Don't think about it._ _Keep going. Nathalie's probably just around the corner, keep going, Adrien._

 

Just like he had suspected, the safe did not contain money. Not even close. That was one cliché that could be put to rest. No, the safe was almost disappointingly normal, as far as secret cache went.

 

A few shelves. Mostly books. An ornamented brooch that reminded him of an Asian paper fan. A picture of young Mrs. Agreste. Nothing that jumped out as especially valuable to a thief.

 

Adrien resisted pocketing the picture of his mother. She looked even younger than he remembered. What did that say about his father if he kept the picture in a safe behind a painting of her?

 

_Tibet…_ Adrien thought, brushing aside the jewel-encrusted brooch. Why would there be a touristic guide to Tibet in this safe? Could it have something to do with his mother?

 

The brooch flashed a bright blue, and Adrien's whipped his head around. “W-what was that?”

 

It had flashed, like one of those silly electronic trinkets sold in fairs. Except that belonged to Gabriel Agreste. It was probably worth more than a modern household made in a decade. And he had touched it! Oh God, did he break his father's brooch?!

 

His internal meltdown came to a temporary stop however, when the brooch shook in his hand, and a blue blob jumped out of its top gem.

 

A blue blob that yawned, stretched two thin stubs that resembled arms and fluttered a long, feathery tail. Adrien instantly thought of a peacock, and the thought was as absurd as it was logical.

 

Then, the floating breach of Reality-and-all-that-was-normal noticed him and gave him a puzzled look with its emerald green eyes.

 

“Oh, hello. My name is Juuno. Nice to meet you.”

 

Adrien.ex promptly crashed. The floating bird-thing could talk. It talked to him. It also had a name apparently. Because what was sanity? But a mere thought floating away from Adrien, very very far.

 

“So you are going to be my new chosen?”

 

Father had owned that brooch. Father had owned the brooch with the bird-thing inside, that was now looking at him expectantly.

 

It truly was a shame that Adrien hadn't found any of the brain bleach he had been looking for. He would have chugged the whole bottle in one go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't spandex. It looked like skin-tight spandex, felt like skin-tight spandex, even smelled vaguely like skin-tight spandex, but it wasn't.

At some point today, Adrien would wake up. He would be in his bed, swimming in his sweat and screaming, but he would wake up and today would stop being a mess of an incomprehensible day where his father had had a weird-flying-monster-bird in a safe behind his mother's painting.

 

He looked forward to it.

 

But in the meantime, he blinked back and recoiled slightly at the stubby little blue arms waving in front of his eyes. “Hello? Chosen? Are you alright?”

 

Right. Right, the bird talked. It had asked a question. What question was it already?

 

“I, huh, I... don't know,” he intelligently replied. Adrien.ex had to reboot and fast. “Why does Father even have… you?”

 

Better.

 

The floating blue thing tilted its head at him, as if not understanding the question. “I don't think I know your father, chosen. You would have to ask him.”

 

_Fat chances of that_. Not only would it be admitting that he had spied on his father in a private moment of grieving (if what Nathalie said was true), but he would have to find a way to formulate “I found a brooch with an alien-like talking bird fairy in your safe. Why?” without sounding like a loon.

 

Adrien was a good model. Not a good actor.

 

“I… I don't think I'm going to do that,” he forced himself to say. “It's… complicated. W-what are you?”

 

The little thing huffed and crossed its arms over its chest. “It would be polite to give me your name first. I told you mine, didn't I?”

 

A lifetime of etiquette lessons bore down on his mind, and only the sound of footsteps echoing in the hallway stopped Adrien from exchanging polite small-talk with the blue creature. The sharp noise of high heels coming from outside the study reminded him that he was only supposed to have left for ten minutes.

 

He didn't know why, but on reflex, he shoved the brooch inside his jacket. Then he remembered the safe, the painting, and the best that could be said of his reaction was that it was a fast, messy and quick fix.

 

“Adrien?” called Nathalie's voice from the hallway.

 

The blue bird's eyes brightened. “Oh, so that's what you're cal--”

 

Adrien squeezed his vest against his chest, cutting off the voice just as Nathalie appeared in the doorway. He hoped to God that she hadn't seen anything and that she wouldn't grow suspicious of his arm hugging his chest. “H-hey, Nat!” he stuttered, leaning against the wall like he imagined a not-on-the-verge-of-being-caught teenager would.

 

“Adrien? What are you doing here?” The prim woman narrowed her eyes in suspicion, gaze going over his wrinkled clothes and the hand he used to keep Juuno hidden. “Had you not realized that our break ended four minutes ago?”

 

This time, Adrien did not fight the flush of embarrassment that washed over his face. Blushing was good. It would help sell it. Sell what? He had no idea.

 

“I… no, I…” He gestured helplessly to the painting, unable to even think of a good lie. “I was…”

 

“Oh.” Nathalie seemed even more subdued than usual, her frown melting away. “I see. I understand, Adrien. I won't mention it to your father. Now, come with me, we need to finish your lesson before your physic tutor arrives.”

 

Questioning his good fortune now would have been an idiotic move. So, he simply kept the brooch and the bird-thing firmly tucked in his jacket's inside pocket. And followed after Nathalie while fighting the growing urge to shudder every time the blue fairy squirmed against his arm and chest.

 

\--

 

Focusing on his school work had been even more ungodly difficult than before, mostly due to the bulge in his jacket that would sometimes _move_ in front of his tutors. Only his physic tutor had noticed, and the man had luckily just rubbed his eyes and muttered something about overworking.

 

Now, in the privacy of his own room, the door locked, Adrien let himself collapse on top of his bed like a blob of jelly. He was either going to die of stress, or it had already happened and he hadn't been nearly as much of a good person as he had believed.

 

Muffled shouts came from within his jacket, and he was _tempted_ not to move. Very tempted, but the breath on his chest tickled and he felt a pang of guilt at having squished the thing twice today.

 

With a groan, Adrien rolled over on his back and instantly saw a blue blur zip out of his clothes to fly in circles about his bed.

 

“Freedom!” the blue sprite shouted.

 

“Shh!” Adrien shot up, one hand swiping the air to catch the loud bird-thing. “Nathalie or Father is going to hear you!”

 

Juuno had the gall to look affronted. He brought one stubby little arm to his chest and gasped, dramatically, “You try being asleep for fifteen years and then being stifled for hours once you finally wake up.”

 

Despite the melodramatic tone, Adrien felt a mortified blush show up on his cheeks. “Oh, oh gosh, Juuno! Sorry! Wow. I… huh… I didn't mean, I mean, I didn't know… Sorry.”

 

The blue bird floated down with an indulgent smile, fluffing up his tail. “It's nothing that a few blueberries won't fix.”

 

Too tired to even talk, Adrien lowered one eyebrow in exactly the same way his father did when a subordinate did something incoherent in front of him. The Agreste Questioning Glare got the bird to sigh and twirl around Adrien's head.

 

“Blueberries. They're my favorite.” The sprite suddenly paused, his face showing alarm. “You do know what they are, don't you?”

 

He could not help it. The look of actual horror on Juuno's face was too much. Adrien started snickering, one hand trying to hide the grin, his shaking trying to pass off as coughing. Needless to say he wasn't a very convincing actor.

 

Juuno pouted. “I'm still waiting. I'm not forgiving you until I get my blueberries.”

 

One quick stake-out in the kitchens later, and Adrien was sitting on his bed, watching the blue bird in fascination as it gobbled down blueberries whole.

 

And pleased as a cat that had got the rat, the little flying critter let out whistling noises like a melody while it savored each and every one of the blueberries Adrien had painstakingly stolen from his own home.

 

“How was that?”

 

“Delicious, thank you,” Juuno chirped, preening and twirling in the air.

 

Adrien followed the little aerial dance with a curious gaze, a question burning on his tongue. “So… what are you, Juuno?”

 

Said critter pushed aside the tiny cup plate to the side, and looked back at Adrien with unashamed curiosity. “I'm a kwami. Didn't the guardian tell you that?”

 

Unless this guardian person was secretly one of his tutors and they had been speaking in codes the whole time…

 

Adrien shook his head. “Nope. Who is he? What's he like?”

 

“Well, the last time I saw him, he was about to celebrate his one hundred and fiftieth birthday. I doubt he changed too much after that. Though, he was balding then, wasn't he?” Juuno put a stub to his chin, unaware of Adrien's jaw now resting firmly on the floor. “So, I suppose you would describe him as a tiny old man that was born in China.”

 

Adrien's jaw snapped shut with a click of teeth. That definitely not the way one would describe Gabriel Agreste. He wasn't sure if that was a relief or not though.

 

“I haven't seen anyone like that before. Your brooch was in my father's safe. Which is kind of what I want to ask. Why were you in my father's possession? The great Gabriel Agreste isn't exactly known for locking up birds in safes.”

 

The kwami's expression didn't change. “Your father?”

 

“Gabriel Agreste?” Adrien replied slowly, having trouble processing the idea of someone not knowing that name. Even if it was a kwami-blue-bird-thing. “Famous fashion designer? CEO of Agreste Designs?”

 

“Hmmm, the name rings a bell, but I couldn't tell you why.” The little thing shrugged. “I've only just woken up though.”

 

“Why were you asleep for so long? You weren't stuck, were you?” Adrien asked, his eyes subtly shifting to the windows occupying a full wall of his room.

 

“Hmm,” paused the peacock kwami, “well, I can only interact with the world when I've been awakened by one of my chosens. When we part, I must return to my miraculous until another human worthy of me shows up.”

 

That asked more questions than it answered. Why did his father even have Juuno's brooch?

 

“Who was the last human you talked to?”

 

A shadow passed in the kwami's eyes, and his smile seemed watery. “A wonderful young human named Lobsang. He was my last chosen.”

 

Adrien patted the poor thing awkwardly, trying not to let his disappointment show. Lobsang? That could be anyone. Well, anyone of Asian descent, he'd guess. It wasn't Chinese, as far as he could tell, but it certainly wasn't French either. Had his Father met with anyone recently that could fit the description? No, wait, not recently. The little guy had mentioned being asleep for fifteen years.

 

That didn't help. Was he even born the last time the kwami had been active? There really wasn't any hints as to the origins of a talking, floating bird that--

 

“Wait.” Adrien looked at himself in wonder. “I'm not sneezing.”

 

The kwami, _Juuno_ , eyed him strangely. “No, you aren't. Were you meant to?”

 

“Well, yeah,” Adrien said with a gesture toward the kwami's tail, “I'm allergic to feathers. You're close enough for me to start sneezing and sniffling.”

 

“I'm magical, and you are my chosen. I wouldn't harm you. _Ever_ ,” Juuno emphasized. His twinkling green eyes had gone hard as diamond and Adrien's skin prickled with a strange energy in the air. “That is a promise and I have always kept my promises.”

 

“...So I'm not having a reaction because you are magic?”

 

Juuno nodded twice, looking a little affronted.

 

_Well, that's convenient enough._

 

Then, he paused. _Very convenient_ . _Anyone that knows me well – Father – would be thrown off my scent by the fact that I'm allergic to feathers. No one would know that Juuno was with me!_

 

… When had this become about planning to keep Juuno with him? The brooch belonged to his father. He hadn't asked for permission to touch it, he had rummaged through Father's stuff and just took something from his private stash like a trinket he fancied. The brooch _had_ _been_ in a locked safe. Juuno… Juuno had been as good as a prisoner. That was when.

 

“Tell me more about magic.” He needed to hear something kinder than his darkening thoughts.

 

“Oh, magic is a grand and wonderful thing, Adrien,” Juuno crooned. “You will love it. Perhaps after a few years, you'll even pick it up on your own and find the great secrets without aid.”

 

It took a few seconds for the words to even register. “...I'll do what?”

 

“Use my magic, of course! What do you think my miraculous is for?”

 

Maybe he needed to double check Adrien.ex, because he could feel another crash coming. “I… I don't know? That brooch is a what?”

 

Juuno stared for a minute, before somehow snapping his non-existent fingers. “Oh, of course. The guardian didn't give it to you. That's always unfortunate, a bit more complicated, but it doesn't matter. I'll tell you everything you need to know. I am Juuno, kwami of Truth, and my chosen have taken the appearance of the blue peacock. Clad in my magic, they have accomplished extraordinary things, most of them.”

 

_Just keep saying words, Adrien. Don't think._ “Clad how?”

 

At this point, the kwami seemed somewhat concerned for his maybe-braindead chosen. He spoke in slow, careful tones, “Well, imagine a suit, clothing that are made of my magic and that let you use a variety of abilities that are not normally found in humans.”

 

It sort of all exploded inside of Adrien. “I can be a superhero?!”

 

Juuno let out a relieved sigh. “That's what most of my little chicks have chosen to do, though a few weren't quite as altruistic.”

 

The bed creaked as Adrien got down on his knees and stared at the kwami from as close as possible. It would have been worrisome, if not for the positively ecstatic look on his face. “How does it work? Magic, right? Do I have to say a spell out loud? Like, 'By the power of Greyskull!' or something?”

 

“Well, the trigger words are 'Wings Out', but maybe it's best if we talk a bit before--”

 

“Wings out, you said? That's kinda chees--”

 

The brooch in his grasp flared to life in shades of blue, green and yellow. Adrien had no time to even think before he was engulfed within the light. His eyes couldn't dart fast enough to catch everything, but they tried, and it was a whirlwind of strange sensations covering his skin, tingling where bubbles of turquoise popped against him and without knowing, he ran a hand over his face, where he felt a new weight _materialized_ against the bridge of his nose.

 

And then it was over.

 

“...y?” He fruitlessly tried to pick up his jaw from the floor. That had happened. That had actually happened, like, light and tingles and now he didn't know where his kwami had gone. “Juuno?”

 

Adrien pondered the benefits of calling to the little bird louder versus the risks of being heard by a member of the household and being checked on while he was… what, exactly? He had just said the magic word to turn into a superhero and now he was looking around for the guy that was making it possible without much luck. Come on, there weren't that many places to hide in his room, were there?

 

With a huff of annoyance, Adrien moved aside the strange line of neon color in front of his eyes. It was only when the feeling of his gloved hand reached a bit further to his hairline that he realized it. That was his fringe. Had the magic turned it _blue_?

 

Yep. Neon blue. It was a sin against the eyes and Adrien would almost bemoan the change, if it weren't for the jolt of excitement that ran through his veins. His father would be so pissed. Why did that make his heartbeat faster? Why did it make him grin lopsidedly? There could be no way to salvage his image as a perfect, sweet teenaged boy if someone saw him with hair that would make punks blush!

 

And then he looked down.

 

It wasn't spandex. It looked like skin-tight spandex, felt like skin-tight spandex, even smelled vaguely like skin-tight spandex, but it wasn't. It was the flashiest (and definitely tightest) pair of cyan pants he had ever seen melting into canary yellow boots at his ankles and mixing with a turquoise green undershirt at his waist. Adrien ran a gloved hand over his chest, tracing the faint carving of a peacock's feather patterns in his clothes, on the brooch whose whole color scheme has brightened into vibrant blues and yellows and reds.

 

He glanced back to the door to his room, still closed, still giving no sign of opening and letting Nathalie or his father in. Refusing to hesitate, he sprinted to his bathroom and checked out the stranger in the mirror.

 

Adrien did not recognize himself at first. The hair tossed him offtrack easily enough, what's with being wildly styled and so, _so_ flashy. He even had a beautiful blue scarf whose ends floated behind him like a pair of wings. But the real game changer was the elegant peacock masquerade mask on his face. It ran down to the tip of his nose up to his hairline, spread like a fan… like a male peacock's tail. It hid most of his features, and with the hair…

 

No one would know it was him.

 

Excitement coursed through his veins. He could do this. He could be a superhero. He even had the sweet costume! He didn't have a shoot or a lesson or even the rare evening meal with his father. No one would notice!

 

His bathroom window gave way to crisp fresh air. His hands on the shill, he tested his grip. It was stunningly easy to lift himself up to window level. His whole body felt light as a feather. And his arms and legs, strong as concrete.

 

Adrien took a deep breath, then jumped.

 

He soared through the skies.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sorry. I kind of got carried away.”
> 
> An understatement if there had ever been one. Better to say that he had been so high on joy the world could have been burning beneath him and he wouldn't have noticed.

Winds whipped Adrien's face, harsh and cold and so strong his blood was pumped in his veins in a frenzy. He was soaring through the air, almost face first, with only a little masquerade mask on his face to protect him. And lenses he couldn't feel that allowed him to keep his eyes open. He could see...

 

He could see the whole of Paris beneath him. A sea of light flowing under him, a pattern of houses and streets intermingling together into a strange mosaic of grey, green and orange. He had gone through those same streets himself. He had looked at them through a limousine's window before, and now they had become something so completely different.

 

The Eiffel Tower looked over his flight, standing tall to his left, the only thing he still had to look up to. Its shadowed figured against the sunset made for a striking figure, and one he can't help regret never seeing before. What kind of Parisian had never been witness to that sight? But now he was, cutting through the air on the impulse of a little god's powers.

 

Adrien hadn't had time to really ponder the mechanics of what was happening. He didn't have time to sit down and wonder if Juuno had granted him the power of flight. But he noticed, his senses having gone into overdrive, when the feeling of ascent slowed and the resistance of the air grew. It was impossible not to see the houses and streets and people below growing bigger again, after shrinking down to little dots of colors.

 

His heart stilled in his chest. Adrien had always had a good understanding of physics. He understood in an instant. He had not started flying, he had _jumped_ and he was falling back to the earth _._ Now his mistake would be paid for in hurt and blood!

 

_Sorry Father sorry help me sorry oh God no please someone I'm too young this isn't happening._

 

It hadn't hurt nearly as much as he had expected. Instead of being splattered on the rooftop, it felt more like bumping his shoulder into a shelf. A bit painful, but something that faded by itself in minutes. Oh. Right. He had superpowers!

 

Adrien jumped to his feet, running up to the edge of the roof and grabbing onto the ledge. There, he peered into the evening's skyline. He had trouble making out the shape of his home, behind the other buildings in front of it.

 

“What was that?!” he cried out with a gigantic grin on his face.

 

Bouts of laughter came to him as Adrien looked himself over again and poked his boot's sole. He felt so light. The wind still caressed his face and he itched to soar again. He felt _free_. The thrill of his fear only added to his excitement. He could have taken the world right there and then.

 

“T-that was… that was _incredible_!”

 

He didn't have a clue where he was. He had never come here on his own before. No one even knew he had left. Nathalie wasn't waiting around a corner with a schedule and a dull, neutral look for him! He didn't have to run to a photoshoot or a meeting with a dietician that would promise his father that he would grow properly without putting on one ounce of fat.

 

He… he had the whole of Paris unfolded before him. The city was _his_ to contemplate. To run through. To leap and laugh and listen.

 

Adrien jumped on the next roof with ease. As easily as taking a step forward. As natural as breathing.

 

He laughed again. He laughed and cried and whooped! Let the passerby hear him. Let them! He was free, he was a superhero and he answered to no one! He was drunk on the joy in his veins and he made his way through Paris and back as a game of supernatural parkour. No one would stop him. So he kept going, getting lost in the most exhilarating experience of his life.

 

Until his watch beeped to indicate the change of time.

 

His watch?

 

Wait, he didn't have his watch with him. It had disappeared when the suit--

 

Adrien was hit by a sudden wave of cold and heaviness as green bubbles of light ate away at his suit, leaving him with his everyday clothing. In midair.

 

Panic surged at the front of his mind as he saw the next rooftop rush at him, and his flailing arms proved useless. The edge of the roof dug right into his ribcage. Stars flashes before his eyes while a loud, raspy wheeze flew past his lips. Adrien had never been even hit before, and the experience proved worse than he had imagined. He felt nauseous.

 

But gravity was a harsh mistress with no patience for this soft boy that had defied her. Somehow, his blanking mind realized what was happening. Adrien's fingers clawed at the tiles on the roof, finding no grip, nothing to slow down his fall.

 

The weightlessness jumbled up his insides, but ended almost as soon as it started. He had no time to really do more than _feel_ fear and panic and horror before the pain hit him. In his right ankle, first, where he landed on something that crunched and broke, followed by his right side. Like falling first face against the pavement.

 

And then the smell hit him. For one so used to the sterile, near scentless perfection of a mansion all the time, the smell punched right through his nostrils and made his nausea a thousand times worse. It was a mixture of rotting fruits and too sour bottom of milk jugs and something muddy and wet beneath his elbow. Miracles alone ensured that he did not throw up all over himself.

 

Grandiose. He'd fallen into an open dumpster. The hero that Paris deserves!

 

Trying to stand ended up with the world turning upside down.

 

Ohhhhh boy… he might need a minute or two.

 

“Adrien!” A blue shape zipped in and out of his sight. “Adrien, are you okay? Can you see? Are you injured?”

 

He didn't know many floating blue formless shapes hovering in the air. “Juuno?”

 

“That was so reckless of you!”

 

“Sorry. I kind of got carried away.”

 

An understatement if there had ever been one. Better to say that he had been so high on joy the world could have been burning beneath him and he wouldn't have noticed.

 

“You are lucky you were as close to the ground as you were when the transformation went off! Honestly! You should have tried de-transforming right away instead of going on a joyride. Anything could have happened!”

 

A ghostly cold licked at the small of his back. He saw himself in that first leap, that immense, devouring panic taking him, and the same mind numbing fear seizing control of him while he fell as himself, a very, very fragile human reaching terminal velocity.

 

“Sorry, Adrien.” Juuno whispered, hugging the boy for all it was worth. “It's also my fault. I gave you information without thinking on how you would react.”

 

“You couldn't predict I would go off on my own right away,” he heard himself say. Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly. He was fine. Covered in garbage, but fine. He hadn't died, and now he knew.

 

“I could have, Adrien. I saw your eyes shine when the idea of a superhero was brought up. I listened to you fidgeting for hours during your classes.” The kwami unstuck himself from Adrien's skin and floated before his eyes, a sad, gentle look to him. “You breath loneliness.”

 

It felt like a punch in his guts.

 

“I… I'm not lonely, Juuno. I'm fine.”

 

The fact that he said so while lying in a dumpster in a back alley of downtown Paris just hammered the point, didn't it? He would have to burn these clothes once he got home. The smell alone would make staff ask too many questions otherwise. Shame, he liked this shirt.

 

“Adrien. You are desperate for contact.”

 

“...How could you possibly tell? Magic?”

 

“Something like that. Now tell me if you can stand up.” The kwami waited patiently for Adrien to raise a finger in the air, then crawl up to the edge and push himself to his feet. “Good. We should head back. You wouldn't happen to have some blueberries on you, would you?”

 

Adrien's smouldering glare told it all. Did he, teenage boy in a dumpster, look like he had blueberries on his person?

 

“That's another part of the deal that I meant to mention before you left.” Juuno sighed. “I can only grant you my power for so long. After which, I need to eat blueberries to replenish my energy. The more I eat, the longer you can stay transformed.”

 

Ah... Well, nothing was perfect. Though, in the confines of his mind, Adrien could admit that his first outing as a superhero came close.

 

“Well, I had been asleep for quite a few years, so I'm still a bit rusty. With time, I'll be able to maintain it longer, but right now, a bowl of blueberries would let you stay transformed for an hour, give or take a few minutes.”

 

His mind jumped on one thing. “It's been an hour?!”

 

What if someone had checked up in his room?! What if they already knew he had gone outside on his own?! What if Father took Juuno away?! It couldn't happen! He had just gotten a taste of what could be!

 

“Relax, Adrien. I don't think anyone noticed. Surely a teenager's parents would know to give him a little bit of privacy in the evening.”

 

“Nathalie's not my...” He stopped, because the gag choked him. She wasn't his mother. Her and Father weren't even involved... Oh no. No! He did not need to imagine his father plucking Nathalie's pin out of her bun and her red hair spilling over her naked shoulders and...

 

Adrien bit into his hand to keep himself from screaming in horror and disgust. Unfortunately, that meant tasting the garbage that had been on his hand.

 

He might end up throwing up after all.

 

“I was not trying to imply...” Juuno began, only to see a lost cause when it stared him back in the face. “Nevermind. Let's just try to find some blueberries so you can get sneak back in your room.”

 

\--

 

He prayed for a miracle, after a good fifteen of running around Paris with a delicate perfume of dumpster clinging to his skin. Every passerby he met, he hid from. If someone took a picture of him now, there would be hell to pay. Going to a grocery store was much too risky for the same reason. They had cameras and he had nothing to use to conceal his features even a little.

 

And then, when he had gotten uncomfortably close to his home, he had read the sign over one of the still open stores in the street. _Boulangerie Dupain-Cheng._

 

It was a stretch.

 

Adrien was also pretty desperate by this point.

 

The doorbell chimed over his head as he rushed inside. The owner – he assumed – could give the Gorilla a run for his money in terms of sheer stature and muscle. Holy crap...

 

Feeling self-conscious under the man's puzzled gaze, Adrien poured out the excuses and explanations like water from a broken cup. “I'm so sorry for showing up near closing time, especially looking like this, but I really, really need something with blueberries in it. Do you have any?”

 

“Are you okay, son?” the burly man asked him instead. Despite his physique, his voice was as soft as the pastry dough he was working on. Then, giving him a once over, added, “What happened to you?”

 

The unexpected care from this stranger made the next words catch in his throat.

 

“Not... nothing much, just a stupid accident while I was walking down the street.” He blushed even more while the man rose an eyebrow in a perfect deadpan manner. “Yeah, it's nothing. Just... Do you have anything with blueberries? I'll... I'll pay you double if you need to bake them. Or just give me blueberries outright. I really, really need blueberries.”

 

The man didn't move at first.

 

“I'll pay you back. I promise. I...” Adrien patted his jeans and felt his heart sink in his stomach. _Oh no._ “And I forgot to take my wallet with me when I left. I'm so dead.”

 

His knees began shaking. After so great a high of excitement, sinking this deep into panic made his head light, swimming. It made him feel as if he was out of his skin, out of his own flesh and looking down at this pathetic mess of a teenager.

 

Now he was never going to get back without being noticed! He would have to ring and get the security to open up the door, and then there would be _all kinds_ of questions about where he had gone and how and why.

 

He was doomed. He should return to the dumpster and lie down.

 

“Wow, calm down, son.” He heard, a warm chuckle breaking through his fatalistic fantasies. “It's okay. Don't worry.”

 

“But I can't pay you! I won't be able to-” He held his tongue just before he said 'feed Juuno'.

 

“First of all, let me fetch you a towel at least, so you can clean up while I pack your order.”

 

Adrien's jaw clicked shut with a clank of teeth. Hadn't the man heard him? He didn't have his wallet or any of that famed Agreste fortune on his stupid, stinky person. Right now, he might as well be a homeless kid that had crawled out of a garbage can.

 

The rich and sweet scents that seemed to drift through the bakery only made him more aware of that. It wasn't a feeling he was used to, but Adrien felt out-of-place, sticking out like a sore thumb in such a clean place. He stayed very still, afraid he'd taint a display or a furniture if he so much as brushed against them.

 

Being handed a clean towel did not warrant the flinch it had gotten out of him. Adrien fumbled around with it, his words coming out as a jumbled mess, and if Juuno wanted to strike him down where he stood, Adrien would have been eternally grateful.

 

Gently, the man herded him toward a chair behind the counter.

 

“Do you need me to contact your parents, my boy? It might be better than to walk down the street by yourself this late.”

 

“No!”

 

Adrien grasped for an excuse, and nothing came to mind. He shrunk on himself, curling his legs under the chair, the towel falling over his eyes. What was he doing? He was a mess. An absolute mess. The man would call someone for sure now, not that Adrien could blame him.

 

“Okay,” said the man, very softly. “I'm not going to ask, but if whatever you were doing out there ended up with you in a dumpster, maybe you ought to rethink your choices a bit. Now, son, be careful on the way home.”

 

And there, in Adrien's waiting, slightly cleaner arms, the man placed a paper bag that carried a faint scent of blueberries.

 

“Thank you so much, sir.”

 

“Don't mention it. Just get home safe, alright?”

 

Not trusting his voice anymore, Adrien eagerly nodded. Perhaps a bit faster than such kindness warranted, he rushed out of the bakery and ducked into the first alley he could find.

 

“Please, tell me this will do!”

 

The kwami took one look at the blueberry muffins in his grasp and smiled. Good, because Adrien was just about ready to implode if things went any more wrong.

 

\--

 

Adrien collapsed on his bed for the second time this evening, his hair and skin damp. He… he had been really scared that someone would have discovered his nightly escapade and his impromptu visit to a bakery, but, no, no one had come. His first foray into superheroism had been witness free.

 

It was weird to be feeling vaguely disappointed about that.

 

Juuno sat near his head on the pillow, a little more subdued than he had been the day before. Adrien made a mental note to get himself loads of blueberries as soon as possible. Possibly hide emergency stashes of them everywhere. And find a way to preserve them as long as possible.

 

If he was going to be a superhero, he wouldn't suffer the embarrassment of losing his powers at the crucial moment because of a lack of planning.

 

“Say, Juuno, how do I even know how much time there is left until I change back?”

 

“Well, I'm different from the more powerful kwamis. They can generally hold until their chosen cast their spells. As for you, the transformation time is set from the moment you change. It depends on how much I had to eat before. If you transform, check on the brooch for the number of peacock eyes left. I'll make noise to remind you when it gets close, but don't forget it. We wouldn't want a repeat of tonight, right?”

 

Adrien buried his face in his pillow. He mumbled something that could be generously interpreted as agreement.

 

“Oh, don't feel bad, Adrien. Every human makes mistakes when they try something new. You will learn.”

 

He rolled over onto his back, torn between interest and shame. The first eventually won over the latter. “You mentioned others. There are more of you?”

 

“The Ladybug and the Black Cat are still hidden, Adrien, but they are the kwamis of the leaders in our circle. They are also the most powerful, capable of casting spells, holding the strength of Creation and Destruction respectively.”

 

“So those spells are what set off their timers?” the teen superhero asked, trying not to feel envious.

 

Juuno nodded. “Yes, and what spells they can use vary. For example, the Ladybug can use three different spells: Creation, Purification and Restoration.”

 

Adrien blinked, trying to imagine for a second what a ladybug-themed superhero would look like, wiggling polka-dotted wings and moving their twitching feelers on top of their head to create anything they wanted.

 

“And the Black Cat?”

 

“He can only cast Destruction. And each one can only remain in power for five minutes after they have used their spells. It consumes a lot of energy.”

 

“Sounds to me like the Ladybug has the better deal,” he grumbled, annoyed for a reason he couldn't explain.

 

Juuno patted his hair, his voice gentle. Comforting. Paternal, even. “They are equals, Adrien; that does not mean that they must be similar in powers. The Black Cat may only have one spell, but he has quite a few more abilities. He can see in the dark, his senses are sharper than those of his partner, his speed and strength are a touch greater than hers. When the enemy cannot be purified, it falls to him to defeat them. They exist as two pieces of one whole.”

 

A contemplative silence fell over the room. Adrien wasn't sure what to think. In the end, that kind of talk did not immediately concern him, did it? Juuno was just the Peacock. He wasn't part of some sort of iconic duo of superheroes. His fingers absentmindedly ran over the shape of the brooch in his pocket.

 

“So… what's with you then, Juuno? Where do you stand in all this?”

 

The blue kwami peered down from Adrien's hair. “I am one of five vowed to serve and help the holders of Fate.”

 

Adrien gulped. Fate? This conversation was headed in a heavier direction than he had first expected.

 

“I told you before, but you probably forgot, what's with all the excitement. The Blue Peacock stands for the Truth.”

 

His mind drew a blank. Truth? How was that a superpower? How would that... help? For a second, his imagination showed him having the power of destruction at his beck and call. The next image that came were that of the walls of his room coming down, and him standing out in the open, breathing out the fresh air like a prisoner that had never seen the sun for years.

 

“… That's it?”

 

Juuno frowned. “It is a power more dangerous and terrible than you would believe, Adrien.”

 

His mouth speaking faster than his head, he scoffed, “I bet.”

 

“A truly realized peacock can break a person with just their words.”

 

Briefly, Adrien thought of himself soaring through the air, knowing that this was the result of a simple jumping attempt. He remembered the feeling of strength in his limbs, the ease of his movements as his being in free-fall could be like second-nature to him. He imagined throwing it all away. He imagined not needing it to win. The way Juuno had said ' _break_ ' had him seeing people sink to their knees, fall on the floor, double over, while a superhero that resembled him laughed in the background. _With just their words._

 

Adrien fought a shiver. “Yeah, okay, let's say I buy the 'terrible power' deal. How does it work?”

 

“You will grow keenly aware of truths and lies as uttered by people around. Deception will become near impossible when attempted on you. It develops differently in all my little chicks. The last one claimed he 'heard it in their voices'. Another said they felt shivers if someone lied. And while all miraculous holders cast a glamour on themselves when they use the powers of a kwami, the Peacock sees through it. The only thing that protects a holder's identity from me is their clothing. Nothing else.”

 

Now, this was starting to sound a bit more ominous than just 'truth'. Adrien had read enough comics – being so often left alone in his room gave him plenty of free time – to know that to superheros, secret identities were of paramount importance. “I think I'm starting to get it.”

 

The blue kwami showed a hint of a smile, but remained serious and stern. “My power is that of truth, and that's what you need to aspire to if you want to be my chosen.”

 

Adrien did a double take.

 

“Does that mean I can't lie if I want to use you?” There were just about one million problems with that. The secret identity was just the beginning. “What about my father and Nathalie? I can't just tell them I'm going out superheroing whenever I feel like it! They'll ground me forever.”

 

Or skin him. Perhaps they'd consider it an acceptable payment to reimburse all those skin-care products they had splattered over him through the years.

 

“Secret identities are the only exception I allow, Adrien, and I do not do it lightly. As we have bonded, I expect and indeed might force the truth and only the truth to come from your mouth.”

 

Hmm, he could not see how that would backfire.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dozens of people he was so eager to meet were just within arm's reach, but to that arm clung a diva pitbull with tons of make-up on her face. It was a cruel joke.

His first challenge on that level was the following day. Waking up had been its own experience, a moment in a daze during which he wondered where the line between reality and dream blurred. Had he really jumped around on Parisian rooftops the night before? Had he done that by accidentally freeing a magical sprite from a brooch that had belonged to his father?

 

Yes to both questions. It hadn't stopped him from grinning and feeling unexpectedly hopeful about his day.

 

When the few members of the staff asked him how he felt, he could actually be honest and say “Great, thank you!” The words were the exact same as the day before and everyone before that, but this time they were heartfelt. It showed on the look of wonder on one of the maid's face.

 

At breakfast, his gaze lingered a bit too long on the waffles and syrup, and when he tried to politely refuse as he was supposed to, he instead stumbled upon his words like a madly blushing maiden.

 

Tiny stubs had squeezed and pinched his skin warningly.

 

_Honest. Truthful. Got it._

 

Easier said than done. Adrien had never realized how many little white lies he went through in a single morning around staff that he could have done without. Midway through it, Adrien had decided that keeping silent wasn't cheating and he didn't have to answer with anything but vaguely affirmative or negative hums.

 

Of course, his day became a touch more problematic when he met with his first tutor of the day: Nathalie. The woman herself hadn't changed at all since yesterday. Same bun, same lipstick, same neutral gaze. Same tone, same questions, with nary but a hint of softness within her questions this time. But he couldn't give her the usual platitudes about having had a good night of sleep or having dutifully read his textbook thrice (he felt comfortable with only two readings), or every single little words that he exchanged with her on his excitement for a new curricular or another shoot with some fantastic photographer that would surely bolster his career.

 

By the end of it, he felt his face had heated up in humiliation. He could not simply mumble his replies to Nathalie. She would report it to Father, and, oh gosh, he must never meet Father again!

 

Why had he ever agreed to a magical jewel that gave him magical powers in exchange for being honest? Well, actually, that was kind of self-explanatory. Magical powers. Being honest. Both things he valued, or thought he did.

 

But still, that first hurdle was eventually cleared with tight-lipped replies and enthusiastic nods that made Juuno fret in his hiding place, but had not triggered another warning. So, he was free to lose himself to his tutoring, while other students his age actually got to meet other people, get fresh air, live outside the walls of a mansion that was a beautiful prison.

 

The lie coiled in his guts. _No, I couldn't. They'd never let me, so I should not bother wanting it. It's_ _ju_ _s_ _t_ _going to hurt. I don't really want that._

 

Somehow, Juuno's little emerald eyes seemed to find him even through the fabric.

 

He didn't know why, but the thought of his kwami's look made him want to actually be honest. It felt as if there was a jolt of electricity coursing through his veins, a blitz of energy and bravery, excitement at the thought of meeting people and having fun, a rush that made him raise his hand and cut through an explanation with a firm, “Nathalie, I want to go to public school this year.”

 

At the moment, Adrien could not blame Nathalie for her very mildly surprised look. “Adrien, do not interrupt your lesson with this again. Your father is the one that needs convincing on the issue. I merely apply his directives.”

 

“Yeah, but I know what he'll say. That it's not safe there. That I'll waste my time.” He rose from his seat, a note of pleading in his voice – and when had he even begun to feel this mess of fear and envy in his chest? “Chloé will be there. The security has already been upped to allow her and some other mildly famous students to attend without trouble.”

 

_The truth, nothing but the truth. Though I get to choose which truth I put forward._

 

A cold and simple truth. The kind he knew would seem logical and thought through instead of spur of the moment. Father did not tolerate whims, but he sometimes listened to his employees when they had had a good idea and proved they had given it thought.

 

Adrien prayed his improvisation skills were as good as he wanted. “Plus, by being out there, I can easily promote new clothes to a new demographic. And make sure more teenagers know my name and my family's brand. We've nearly covered the material most students a year older do. A university-level education is not as important as where you got it from, the name of the place is half the value. Private tutoring will only get me so far. It's not an efficient use of my time when there could be plenty of meetings with potential customers every day.”

 

Now, he wasn't involved in any sort of marketing campaign, but he threw in the efficiency line for Nathalie.

 

By the slight twitch of her lips, he would say she had caught on to him.

 

“I will mention it to your father, Adrien.”

 

 _Holy Juuno!_ Had it actually worked?

\--

 

It had. What in the world? It had! He was in school! He didn't care if he was the only teenager in the world that felt positively giddy at the thought of starting a new school year, he was actually free. Free!

 

“Be true to yourself, Adrien,” Juuno had said. “Who will live with you if you can't live with yourself?”

 

That had been a sharp blow to his carefully constructed mask of happiness. And the best thing about it was that those cracks were slowly being filled by actual happiness instead. He had not needed to fake the expression of wonder on his face as he was escorted by the Gorilla up to the Principal's office. There were so many teenagers. So many people. It was one thing to see that crowd from a distance, a hidden desire lingering in him; it was another to _be_ part of the crowd. To just be one teenager amongst so many!

 

It felt a bit like putting on the costume.

 

The only problem was… he didn't like public school as much as he had imagined he would. He knew he had built it up as some kind of magical bonding experience in his head, but he had hoped to make new friends. According to proper manga and cartoon logic, he was a rich, nice guy, good looking (objectively, he was a model after all), thus he should have met some people that wanted to befriend him already.

 

And to be fair, there had been a couple that had tried.

 

Okay, he already knew Chloé would be around, but he hadn't quite expected this. She had always been a bit possessive of what she had, but… the first time she snapped at one poor fangirl that had gathered the courage to ask him an autograph, Adrien had been taken aback. His brows had shot up a miles high, and only being so gobsmacked prevented him from getting Chloé to stop.

 

Asking her to be nicer had resulted in glares that could melt the antarctic.

 

And asking her to stop _that_ resulted in her pretending nothing was going on, followed by a Chloé snuggled even tighter against his arm.

 

The dozens of people he was so eager to meet were just within arm's reach, but to that arm clung a diva pitbull with tons of make-up on her face. It was a cruel joke.

 

The longer this went on, the more he could feel his model smile returning. _Just keep smiling, Adrien. It'll get better later. It has to._

 

Though, his poker face was tested when he caught glimpses of the latest rumour.

 

“-- yeah, my mom's seen him. Apparently, the guy has some crazy parkour skills. Jumped from one roof to the other without pause. Said it was unbelievable.”

 

Right. So far he hadn't done any hero work. He would soon though. Maybe he could try stopping a bank robbery? But where would he find a bank robbery in progress?

 

Such were his deep thoughts moments before he entered what would be his first class, ever.

 

Oh wow. That was a lot of teenagers staring at him at once. And none of them looked especially awestruck. Just mildly curious and judging, and suddenly, Adrien felt like on a catwalk. Without anything to wear.

 

Their teacher, a purple haired woman, turned from her notes and gestured for them to come inside. “You can go to your seat, Chloé,” she first told his friend before turning to him. “You must be our new student. Please, come to the front and introduce yourself.”

 

_Okay, deep breath, you can do this._

 

“Hey everyone. I'm A-”

 

“Adrien Agreste.” Chloé stood from her seat, coldly glaring at the rest of the class. “The son of Gabriel Agreste, top model, and far too good to be hanging around the lot of you.”

 

Adrien blinked. “Hm, well, that's not exactly how I would--”

 

“Thank you, Adrien.” The teacher took off her glasses to massage the bridge of her nose. “I believe we get the idea.”

 

It wasn't even his idea! He would have told them if he had had a minute to do so. But... Another thing he had noticed, especially now that classes were starting, was that people glared at him for being close to Chloé. Worryingly, the teachers were not exempt from this.

 

Swallowing his disappointment, he headed for one of the few empty seats. At the front, near another boy who was wearing a pair of headphones around his neck. His greeting was met with a cold 'hey' from his new neighbour.

 

Was she really that bad? Okay, she could be needy and a bit thoughtless, but it was usually with good intentions.

 

The brooch seemed to buzz in his jacket, but didn't really notice. Absentmindedly, he took out his phone to check on the message he thought he had received. What did Nathalie want with him now?

 

“Mister Agreste!” A harsh voice snapped like a whip.

 

Adrien nearly jumped out of his seat. With a deer in headlight's look, he tore his gaze away from his phone to see the middle-aged woman towering over him. That couldn't be good.

 

“I suppose you have not been told yet, but we do not tolerate the use of cellphone during classes.”

 

He felt himself blush as most of the teenagers around him snickered. Oh wow, not even five minutes in. Must have been a record.

 

“Hum, excuse me?” Chloé's voice snapped like a snide whiplash. “Don't you know who he is? He has like, a dozen photoshoots each week, and if he gets a message, it's probably really important!”

 

“Miss Bourgeois, you will refrain from speaking out of turn like this. Your friend--”

 

“It's okay, Ma'am. I'm sorry,” he cut in before things could escalate into a big problem for his best friend. “You're right, that was my fault. I was distracted and I didn't check with you first.”

 

The teacher's glare softened, if only a little. “As you are new and this is your first misbehaviour, I will be lenient. But do make sure this does not happen again. You have been warned and cannot claim innocence anymore.”

 

“Of course. I'm sorry, Ma'am.”

 

With that embarrassing start behind them, the class could proceed as it was meant to. The subject was simple, mostly reviewing the class' last homework. For this part, Adrien felt quite lost, though he tried to follow on his neighbour's sheet as best as he could. Not helping his focus were the occasional muttering he heard from Chloé's seat.

 

 _'Don't worry about it,'_ he mouthed to the seething girl.

 

 _'Oh, I'm not_ , _'_ she mouthed right back, her eyes narrowing on the teacher's back.

 

\--

 

Overall, classes were... okay. It wasn't spectacularly different from his tutoring lessons, except he had more people around him and sometimes one of them would start to whisper to their neighbour. It didn't bother him as it did some of his classmates. He quite liked the feeling of being one of a group, of being able to be nothing more than a face in a crowd.

 

So far, no one had really stepped forward to try being his friend yet. The few that had been ready to brave both his status and Chloé's watchdog act were more of the 'bold fans' variety. Not quite the people he had been looking for.

 

...Maybe Father had been right. Maybe there wouldn't be people that liked him for him, that could look past his family name, his model career and his money.

 

From the confines of his jacket's inside pocket, he heard a mumbled, “Don't lie to yourself.”

 

Right. He slapped his cheeks with both hands. Juuno had the right idea. He could not give up on people so quickly. And it wasn't just their job to make the first step. If Adrien Agreste wanted friends, he could make the effort and not mope around so quickly.

 

Alright! The next person that came through the class' door, he would make an honest effort to befriend despite what Chloé said, and he would not give up unless they asked him to.

 

For the next three minutes, Adrien repeated that vow to himself as he watched the door staying resolutely closed. Their afternoon break was still ongoing. Of course people wouldn't be returning to class so quickly. They were not teenagers that had waited their whole lives to go to public school.

 

However, a familiar voice tore his attention apart from the door. “If that girl thinks she can talk to me like that...”

 

Chloé was still pissed. It seemed that in her satisfaction of having Adrien around all day long, she had forgotten to take into account that it would still be school and that people would be interested in the new student. His current best friend grumbled and growled as she plucked her gum from her mouth and smashed it over one of the seats.

 

Adrien could hardly believe his eyes. “Chloé, what are you doing?!”

 

She was all honey, far too sweet and syrupy. “Watch and learn, Adrikins. Sometimes, you have to teach people their place.”

 

“T-that's going to damage their clothes... And it's really kind of a jerk move.”

 

She tried to hold him back. “Adrien, don't take it so seriously. Marinette deserves it.”

 

He shrugged off her hand and knelt near the bench to take out the gum before the girl from before returned. _Eww, hot chewing gum..._

 

“What exactly do you think you're doing?”

 

Wow, that was twice in one day that he was addressed with that kind of tone. Except this time wasn't from a teacher, and it wasn't his fault.

 

The girl Chloé had gotten into an argument before had returned, hands on her hips, her bluebell eyes icy with a glare that easily matched the one on Chloé's face. He could not help the ridiculous skip of his heart at the sight. _That_ was not a girl to let a perceived difference in social status hold her tongue or her actions.

 

And perhaps after a moment of staring, gobsmacked, Adrien remembered that he had been asked something. The first thing that came to mind was to protect Chloé's reputation.

 

_The Blue Peacock stands for the Truth._

 

It was for a friend. His only friend right now.

 

Chloé.

 

The brooch jolted in his pocket. They had a deal. Peacocks stand by the Truth.

 

 _Sorry, Chloé._ He braced himself. “I don't know if you'll believe me, but I was only taking it off your seat after Chloé had put it there. She was angry at you and I disagreed with what she was doing.”

 

Keeping his eyes down, he gathered all he could of the chewed gum and went to throw it in the wastebasket by the teacher's desk. The girl and her friend watched with suspicious eyes, but didn't really say more. He returned to his seat at the front with an annoyed sigh. Today was not the dream-like first day of school he had hoped for years.

\--

 

How in the world had he had the patience to deal with more Chloé antics? He should count to ten in his head while trying to make the girl let go of his arm. Maybe in that order.

 

She had cornered him near the end of the day. Just before he needed to go and get changed after his fencing lessons in fact. Just a few more meters, and he would have reached the locker room, and more importantly, a girl-free zone.

 

“Why did you tell Marinette I did that, Adrikins?” she asked him with a fake pout.

 

Adrien sighed. He knew it wasn't very nice to have put her on the spot like that. He nearly hadn't and if not for Juuno, maybe he would have let Marinette think it was his fault. Chloé was his friend, after all.

 

He felt his kwami poke his ribs under his jacket, and the apology he was about to say remained stuck in his throat. So, he had thrown her under the bus, but… The memory flashed to his eyes. Him, kneeling by the bench and looking as good as guilty. Marinette rightfully angry, and Chloé, torn between an anger of her own, and a sense of sharp satisfaction. He had left her to dry, but... hadn't she done that too?

 

It wasn't an apology on his mind then. “Would you rather have her think I did it instead? When it wasn't even me?”

 

Chloé fumbled to reply, her eyes flashing with anger and embarrassment. “I… huh… well, no I did not want _you_ to take the fall or anything. You… you just went ahead so suddenly to try and undo just a joke on her. I was… surprised, that's all. Of course I would have defended you. W-whatever, it's not like we should care what Marinette thinks, right?”

 

 _Yes_ , said a little voice in the back of his head that resembled Juuno's, _yes, she wanted Marinette to hate me. But why?_

 

“Right, Chloé,” added a meek voice from behind his 'best friend'.

 

Adrien spared a worried look to Sabrina, who was trying to be as invisible as possible, as always when he was near Chloé. It seemed her instincts – or years of practice – as a yes-woman to the spoiled girl had gotten the better of her understanding of the rules.

 

When Adrien was around, Sabrina wasn't to speak unless she was part of whatever plan Chloé had had. It wouldn't do if Adrien's attention was not entirely on his BFF, right? It wasn't like Sabrina was really his friend, no, she wasn't _worthy_ of that. They were on a different level, her and him. She should just be happy to be allowed in his presence.

 

For a second, he thought his sight had blurred in shades of blue, and Sabrina was a vivid turquoise in a sea of muted abyssal colors. Sabrina shouldn't care what Marinette, or anyone else, thought of her if she wanted to remain Chloé's friend.

 

He wondered if he could glance at his own skin and see if it would be the same shade as Sabrina's.

 

_Chloé doesn't want me to have other friends. She doesn't want to share._

 

“Whatever, Adrikins!” Chloé finally dismissed, smiling as she draped herself around his arm. “I forgive you.” _For what?_ “Marinette can think whatever she wants. We all know she's beneath me.”

 

Something about that rubbed him the wrong way. He knew Chloé thought in… unkind ways of her relations with people around her, but… standing up for yourself when people mocked you, it wasn't easy.

 

“I don't like it when you speak like that,” he said with a frown.

 

It did not startle her. Rather, she smiled sweetly, in a way that was very much what he remembered of a young Chloé Bourgeois, the little girl that had befriended a lonely young Adrien. “Oh, Adrikins, I know you're too kind to say those things, but they're the truth. People like us are not like them.”

 

Juuno did not react. He did not give sign of a telltale lie. Nor had Adrien's sight changed at all.

 

“Now, Adrihoney, Sabrina and I were going shopping, but I'll text you as soon as I'm back home, okay? We have so much stuff to talk about! I'm so glad you've finally managed to get your father to send you to school with me!”

 

Not a lie either.

 

Adrien kept a tight smile on his face as he waved them both goodbye, Sabrina a little more softly than Chloé. Then, after changing, he made his way down the stairs and into the schoolyard. He completely ignored the stares he was getting and the stunned whispers of some girls wondering if he really was _Adrien Agreste, the supermodel!_ He did his best to look happy and relax for Nathalie, who was waiting for him right outside of school with the Gorilla.

 

“Sorry,” he told them both. “Chloé just wanted to talk a bit after class.”

 

They let it go without any comment. It wasn't until Adrien had sunken into the back of the limo that he let loose the sigh he had been holding in for a good five minutes now.

 

Chloé was his friend. His first friend. His best friend. She talked to him when no one else had dared. She came to see him to have fun and share candy and she let him hug her when Mom went missing and… and she wanted him for herself. She was his friend. Sincerely happy that they would spend more time together. She had been his only friend. She had seen how lonely he had been, she didn't hate it that way.

 

_The Blue Peacock stands for the Truth._

 

He felt empty inside. His hand searched for the brooch, but found a pair of warm little arms hugging his wrist.

 

“The truth isn't always kind, little chick,” Juuno crooned from his hiding place in Adrien's jacket. “But it is never crueler than a lie.”

 

He didn't reply to that. He wasn't supposed to lie.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Punching stone would be a monumentally stupid thing to do, accomplishing nothing more than breaking his knuckles. Luckily, he had magic. Unluckily, so did his opponent.

One of his classmates had turned into a giant rock monster.

 

He might have been ignorant of the finer details of public school, but he was still fairly sure that wasn't supposed to happen.

 

Though, just in case...

 

“Does that happen often?” he rhetorically asked Nino.

 

“What do you think?!” said classmate snapped.

 

Well, that confirmed that. Teenagers in public school did not spontaneously transform into rock monsters that yelled for revenge and their crush of the day. Good to know that it wasn't just another part of every day life he had missed while stuck under Nathalie's watch.

 

_I mean, it would have been more peaceful, sure, but that's so many bonding opportunities lost right there._ Right now, he felt quite a closeness with Nino, being crouched next to a closed door while they listened to the grunts of the not-everyday-normal-teenager-monster.  _Though that might just be physical proximity too._ He sniffed.  _Father would personally murder me for using Nino's brand of shampoo._

 

Distantly, he wondered if his stray thoughts were born of a restless surge of adrenaline in his veins, or just the knowledge that there was something he could do about the monster attack. Juuno _helpfully_ reminded him of that fact by pulling at his shirt every few seconds, and Adrien very much wanted to let him out, but  again, being very close to Nino. Plus a handful of other lucky guys that had been in the locker room while the commotion had happened. 

 

The chances of him transforming here without anyone noticing were about the same as him successfully convincing his father that candy pink was the best color for shoes this season. No, he needed another plan.

 

“There's still people out there with him,” were the words that came out of his mouth.

 

“Y-yeah, and?” Nino stuttered, trying to catch more details of the situation without having to risk being in the rock monster's line of sight.

 

“And I have got to help them,” he said as he stood up to a crouch and dashed out of the locker room.

 

_Oh God, that thing is going to see me_ , rushed to his mind just as another, more deadpan voice replied,  _it has its back to us, genius._

 

Slinking, he crept to the nearest column and opened up his jacket to let his kwami out. “Juuno, what the heck?” Then, with another glance to the slumbering monster, “Short version please.”

 

“Your classmate was possessed by a magical butterfly and you need Ladybug's spell to purify it.”

 

Awesome. Short and to the point. It still sounded pretty crazy, but at least he had an idea of what was going on. Magic involved. Ladybug needed. Though he would have words later about the 'possessed by a magical butterfly' part.

 

Adrien ducked behind a turned over table.

 

“And where _is_ Ladybug?” he asked, looking over his shoulder for the rock titan  stumbling through the courtyard. It had thrown off a table against a wall hard enough to shatter it. Luckily for Adrien's heart, no one had been hiding underneath that one. Unfortunately, the girl hidden that had been away from it was now exposed.

 

Adrien's knuckles turned white as he grasped at the table's edges with both hands. The rock monster had picked up the girl, who screamed in absolute horror.

 

He was surprised he could still hear his voice over her shrilled, piercing shrieks. “Do I need to call her? Or is it a guy this time?”

 

Juuno shrugged helplessly. “They have not answered the call yet.”

 

There were days when everything just lined up perfectly to screw over poor Adrien Agreste. This was not one such day, but at the time, it sure felt like it. The reason not everything had lined up… well, hindsight is everything.

 

Foresight, in a combat setting, was also pretty damn useful.

 

He had been building up the courage to say 'Wings Out' for a handful of seconds when he heard the rustle of fabric behind the column in front of him.

 

And because he was either hated or loved by Fate, he actually recognized the girl from the hint of clothing he saw. He got a much better look when the girl crouched low, then sprinted toward his hiding place.

 

“Marinette?”

 

The raven-haired girl very much looked like she would appreciate being somewhere else. And at the same time… not quite. Her body seemed tense, but wasn't shaking from fear as he would have expected. Her eyes kept careful watch of the monster as he turned over more hiding places, mumbling about a girl's name.

 

“What are you doing here?” he asked Marinette quickly. If that thing came their way, he might just have to try and transform right there and then. The fallout would be spectacular even if he won… Better grounded for life than dead forever though.

 

“I… I was just trying to hide from Ivan, he's looking for Kim now. I heard them talking before… before he…” she fumbled, fidgeting with her handbag. “You... you should not stay here. He's going to notice you eventually.”

 

Which, while true, also applied to Marinette. A girl who, up until a moment ago, had been better hidden and farther away from… Ivan? Wasn't that the big guy with the skull t-shirt? Figured his foray into monsterhood would be as a giant-like creature.

 

Adrien waited a second then turned back to Marinette.

 

“Just… just run back to our classroom; he's got Mylene, Kim's outside, so he shouldn't return there. I'll find a way to save her, just run when he isn't looking our way, alright?”

 

Marinette's face seemed pale. “How are you going to do that?”

 

“No idea yet. I'll improvise.” Despite his easy grin, his knees were shaking. _Think of the wind, think of jumping in the air, you're free, you're free and soaring and you can turn into a superhero._ “Remember. Run when Ivan's distracted.”

 

And he rushed out.

 

He heard the call of “Adrien!” behind him, and already he tuned it out. No time for distractions. He would have to do the first part without his powers. Too many people were watching the scene in horror.

 

Somehow, his plan hadn't gone past the point of yelling and ordering the monster to let Mylene go. It wasn't his greatest. But it earned him a dark glare and an immobile rock monster, if only for a second or two. Ivan snorted at him in derision, unimpressed by Adrien's much feebler physique.

 

In his fist however, there was a girl, a lone girl that had just been grabbed by a creature that no one would have thought possible, and she had stopped screaming.

 

The hope in her gaze singed Adrien's skin.

 

_I'll save you. Don't worry. A superhero will swoop in and this nightmare will be over. I promise._

 

“Didn't you hear me?” he called, his voice much more solid than he expected. “I told you to let go of Mylene, Ivan!”

 

Wrong thing to say. “My name is Stoneheart!” he roared.

 

Adrien's heart nearly jumped out of his chest at the sight of the giant charging in his direction. For a few fascinating heartbeats, he stared at the plates of solid stone shifting to allow movement, the malevolent glint where there used to be eyes, and the bunched up fist that rose to flatten him.

 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he profusely thanked his lucky star that Father had insisted on gymnastic and yoga classes. Made the limbs flexible and the pose natural.

 

Also useful for dodging monstrous fists aimed straight at him apparently. Who knew?

 

Adrien scrambled down the stairs of the college, jumping as much as running, his sight narrowing onto the steps, just the steps. If he tripped, he'd die by being crushed to death by a rock monster.

 

Or not…

 

Stoneheart had stilled, as if unsure what to do, purple light flashing in front of his face.

 

Adrien did not question whichever god or angel was doing him this favor. He just ran an appreciable distance before yelling for Stoneheart's attention again. When he was sure that yes, Stoneheart was in the mood for a game of cat and mouse, Adrien dashed into the street. He ducked into the first alley he saw.

 

“Can I beat him, Juuno?” were the first words out of his mouth.

 

The kwami sent him a look roughly translating to ' _Now you're asking?_ ' “Can you, Adrien? The possibilities are truly endless. But is it likely? No. You need Ladybug for this at the very least. And the Black Cat would be extremely useful as well.”

 

Basically, not in a million years. Good to know. Adrien liked knowing where he stood. People told him so little. Why, Juuno's deadpan honesty was positively refreshing.

 

“Well, I can't just let him rampage to his heart content though, can I?”

 

Juuno's lips quirked upward. “No, you can't.”

 

“Wings out!”

 

Adrien did not take the time to marvel. He was a superhero, and there happened to be a supervillain on a rampage. Or at least, something that had turned an ordinary boy into a supervillain.

 

His leap took him onto the rooftops, where he skidded to a halt and wildly flailed his arms to keep his balance. That would take some getting used to. Shame he only had one test run. He would have to make do.

 

He scanned his surroundings, first in the direction of _Collège Françoise-Dupont_. That turned out to be a wise choice. Stoneheart stood in the middle of the street, frozen, Mylene still in his grasp.

 

For the first time, the creature eyed him with a sense of wariness. The strange mask-like lights had returned. “Who… are you?”

 

It wasn't his classmate asking. It wasn't even Stoneheart. It was someone with a twisted heart and a power he never should have possessed.

 

Without knowing, Adrien found himself showing teeth in a mixture of a grin and a snarl.

 

“I'm Paon Bleu, Protector of Paris! You're going down!”

 

Paon was near staggering at the sense of dizziness that had hit him as he looked over his formerly human classmate. The whole figure appeared shadowed in an oozing mass of dark blue. A lie so deep it had reached the core of that guy's mind. His classmate was in there, certainly, but pushed down underneath layers and layers of magic. It was amazing that he even kept some cognisant abilities.

 

Now, Juuno's explanation had been technically correct, mostly getting out a goal and a reason in a few seconds for practicality's sake. There was a web of magic encasing Ivan and it was reacting before every movement the stone monster made. It was however an incomplete description. Paon Bleu could tell that the rocky right fist radiated a much stronger power than the rest of him. If he was possessed by a magical butterfly, then the butterfly had to be somewhere, and his senses kept pointing in that direction.

 

He really should plan for this.

 

He didn't. His legs became like springs and Paon shot through the air, his scarves harshly whipped by the wind. It took him just over Stoneheart's head, through his grasping fist, and he landed with a frantic roll. His advantage was speed. He knew that.

 

Punching stone would be a monumentally stupid thing to do, accomplishing nothing more than breaking his knuckles. Luckily, he had magic. Unluckily, so did his opponent.

 

The rock titan glowed an ominous purple colour, and Paon felt the stone-like skin expand under his finger. No, he was not dreaming – or having a nightmare. The rock monster had grown bigger, taller and even more intimidating.

 

“I'm gonna take a wild guess and say you absorb kinetic energy and convert it into power for yourself.”

 

The monster took a swing.

 

Adrien ducked so fast he hit the ground. Then, seeing the stone foot in front of him lift, rolled onto his sides as frantically as possible. Once he was on his feet, he may have leaped away a bit too hard, as his heart had ascended somewhere at the height of his throat. But at least, he was safely on top of a building.

 

_Saw my life flash by there! On the plus side, I wasn't actually imagining it. Mom really did snort if she giggled for too long._

 

The monster roared his way, but mercifully did not charge the house on which Paon was standing. Perhaps it had a sense that it would be a waste of time. Stoneheart was too slow for Paon. Instead, he scoffed and turned back to walk down the street.

 

_Wow, that_ stung. _Even as a superhero, I'm being ignored_. Paon followed, racking his brain for a miraculous idea. Any time now would be good. Currently, all he was doing was parkouring on the roofs in parallel to the rock monster guy. Not exactly saviour of Paris material.

 

Should he drag the monster to the river? Would he sink or could such a heavy bastard actually swim? And if not, wasn't that kind of drowning one of his classmates? Wow, that was dark. And frustrating. His chance to prove himself to all of Paris was slipping him by, and he couldn't do a thing.

 

“Anytime you feel like showing, Ladybug...”

 

Paon did not hear the whistling of air as a human-sized red and black bullet chose him for a landing point. And what did you know? Angels did fall from the sky. Admittedly, with not quite the amount of grace that had been described to him before. But, really, details, details.

 

He was covered by a not-spandex clad superheroine. Skin-tight not-spandex. His every teenage boy fantasies fulfilled entirely by chance. He held back the tears. _Stay pure, Adrien. Remember that you are also running around in skin-tight pants._ _Things could get embarrassing very fast._

 

Fortunately for his dignity and ability to think, Paon was not covered by a shapely young woman for too long. She immediately scrambled to her feet, and he gladly took the hand she offered to help him stand. 

 

He might have forgotten to breath. Paon realized with a jolt that his mental image of a ladybug theme superhero paled in comparison to the reality. That costume was not just tight, it was _snug._ How did one make red and black polka dot work? She… she had pigtails, ridiculously cute pigtails, and eyes like crystals, glossy lips, and oh God he was staring a lot, wasn't he?

 

She noticed. She blushed, and Paon's poor heart went into a frenzy. “Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! This is the first time I try my yo-yo and... I was...” The girl trailed off. She was taking a good look at him, gauging him from head to toes, or from neon blue hair to canary yellow boots. By the widening of her eyes, it wasn't what she was expecting. “You can't be the Black Cat's chosen…”

 

“Brilliant deduction, Princess!” Adrien said with an exaggerated bow. “I'm but your humble servant, Paon Bleu, holder of the Peacock Miraculous. How may I be of service?”

 

He punctuated these last words with a kiss to the back of her hand, much like a knight of old for his lady. That had to be the smoothest flirting Paris had ever seen!

 

“Keep it professional, Romeo. Just…” The girl sighed, and Adrien tried not to feel slighted. “I was expecting a Black Cat so my kwami only told me about him. What can you do?”

 

Straight to the point. To be fair though, there was a rampaging possessed classmate around.

 

“I don't have any spell. But I can tell what is true and what is false. That's probably going to be useful.”

 

“Better than nothing,” Ladybug sighed again.

 

Paon did his very best not to be offended. High stress situation, and an understandable reaction considering his own back when Juuno first told him. Besides, what better remedy to skepticism than proving yourself?

 

“Well, I'm pretty sure that he's holding whatever is responsible for changing him in his right fist. And don't bother hitting him. It only makes him stronger. That's something, isn't it?”

 

The girl turned back to look at him quickly, as if she hadn't expected him to say that. Her blush grew and he could see her beating herself over her reaction. “You're right. I'm sorry. This is such a high stress situation. We can't fail now.”

 

“We won't.”

 

And moments later, whilst he was jumping to keep up with his princess, he realized what he had said.

 

The Truth.

 

\--

 

_So that's what the inside of a sport stadium looks like_ , Paon mused as he landed on the artificial grassy field. He could not help  but feel a bit disappointed. In his dreams, he visited this place during a game and had a hell of a good time.  With popcorn, a hotdog, a giant coke and one of those big blue Number One gloves you saw on TV. 

 

Now, however, there was the delicate matter of a rock giant trying to flatten their mutual classmate. The ambiance was not nearly as festive.

 

“Ivan, this isn't you!” Ladybug called out to him, her grasp on her yo-yo unsteady, hesitant. “You have to stop before you hurt someone!”

 

That someone being most likely Kim, Mylene, or either of the freshly minted superheroes.

 

“I'm not Ivan! My name is Stoneheart!”

 

Paon grunted at the lie. The enchantment had to be strong if it made people not only forget, but reject their true identity. The webs of dark blue covered every inch of the stone golem, squishing every little hint of light green that tried to push its way to the surface. Ladybug's intentions were noble, but there would be no reasoning with Stoneheart until he had been cured.

 

“It won't work. Just cover me, Princess,” Paon said, leaving her just enough time to nod before he soared over the field and landed on the other side.

 

Next to an almost sobbing Kim.

 

His face pale, eyes darting around for an exit, Kim stepped back. “Whoa! Who are y-?”

 

“No time, Kim!” He pulled up his classmate against him then jumped to the entrance under the stands. Without looking, he dropped the taller teenager on the ground and helped him stand. “Run out of the stadium, then hide. Ladybug and I will take care of Stoneheart. Go!”

 

The teen did not need to be told twice. He took off with a speed that many Olympic athletes would have envied.

 

One teen down. One more to go.

 

“Alya?!” loudly exclaimed Ladybug.

 

Her partner whipped his head around in the direction his princess was looking. There was indeed a teenager hiding near the goalie's net, her buttoned shirt and jeans contrasting strongly with the uniform green of the field.

 

_Spoke too soon,_ Paon berated himself _. That's what I get for tempting fate._

 

But seriously?! What was _another_ one of his classmates even doing inside an empty football stadium? Three for three. But the previous two had had a reason – being kidnapped or being pursued. So, what was _her_ deal?

 

Filming. She was actually filming the confrontation between two real life superheroes and a poor possessed teen. And as his brain phrased it, that actually sounded somewhat gutsy and worth the risk.

 

Well, not really, but it sure explained why the girl was there.

 

Why was he not actually surprised? Hadn't he heard something about journalism from her? And speaking from experience, journalists and their evil inbred cousins, paparazzi, would go to any length for a good scoop.

 

Paon Bleu shivered in ways that Stoneheart could only dream of inspiring. That was one thing for which he did not regret having a bodyguard. 

 

Apparently, Stoneheart shared Paon Bleu's distaste for intrusive journalism, but unlike the young superhero, had not nearly as many qualms for violent overreactions. Under the widening eyes of both superheroes and reporters, Stoneheart's sank his free hand into the ground and hurled a chunk of grass, earth and concrete as big as a car toward the stands. 

 

Ladybug's yo-yo swirled in the air, spinning so fast his Princess seemed to be holding a pink-lighted shield. Paon's heart stopped in his chest. That would never hold! The projectile collided against the yo-yo's barrier and exploded into a cloud of dust, obscuring Ladybug and Alya from view. 

 

_ Princess! _ Paon could not help but think in horror.  _Did she get hurt? What about that girl?_

 

For a moment, he stopped thinking. He felt himself driven by a surge of protectiveness, and he cut through the distance in a series of rapid leaps that left him almost dizzy. And the last one brought him into the dust itself, particles scratching his face at that speed. But there, he saw her, hunched protectively over Alya, looking slightly disheveled, lines of dirt soiling her suit and her face. 

 

As the cloud dispersed however, Stoneheart noticed them still standing. “Give me your miraculous, Ladybug!”

 

“Alya, run!” Ladybug ordered with such sternness the reporter did not think twice. Alya might have been daring, but she still had some self-preservation instincts. “Paon, we need to put an end to this now.”

 

Adrien could only agree. The longer they fought, the more chances for Stoneheart to absorb kinetic energy and grow stronger. At the moment, they were in an empty stadium, and that was incredible luck, but if it changed, there would be collateral damages. 

 

Stoneheart roared. And, within his fist, Mylene violently swerved down, her head nearly coming into contact with the ground.

 

Mylene's panicked shriek drilled into his ears. They had to do something and fast! For now, Stoneheart did not want to hurt her, but _accidents happened_.

 

“Any idea?!” he asked in hushed tones, adrenaline whipping into his veins.

 

“Maybe.” His princess span her yo-yo on her left, just waiting for an opening in Stoneheart's posture. “Tikki told me my Lucky Charm would create a random object that would allow me to turn the situation around if I used it correctly.”

 

That sounded like what Juuno called Creation. Good. She could use the spells.

 

“Well, now is as good as time as any. Do it!”

 

“Lucky Charm!” Ladybug yelled as she threw her yo-yo in the air. Spiraling light erupted from the toy, red and black spots flying in Paon's sight. When the blinding light receded, a single object the length of an arm fell into Ladybug's open hands.

 

“...An umbrella? What am I supposed to do with an umbrella?”

 

Despite the situation, Paon could not resist a gentle quip, bowing as a jester would. “Will you allow me to shield you from this dreadful weather, Princess?”

 

He had to admit, he was half-expecting to be hit for the joke in such a high stress situation. But no, Paon's shoulders remained unbruised.

 

“That's it!” Ladybug snapped her fingers, eyes gone wide. “Paon, get his attention!”

 

“With pleasure!”

 

Paon's face split into a wild grin of excitement as he rushed the giant monster. In three bounds, he was under Stoneheart's chin. The villain startled, his body lurching, and then his foot rose to meet Paon Bleu and kick him like a pest.

 

It did not even come close. Paon sprung backward, flipping in the air with unnatural grace. That part, he could not even attribute to his Agreste Perfection Training. _Must be the peacock_. Alas, his mission was to provide a distraction, not ponder his powers. That didn't happen when the proud knight in shining armor was lying on the ground flat on his ass. Rather, it was time to open his mouth.

 

“Missed me!” he taunted, spreading his arms mid-leap. “By, like, a lot, dude.”

 

His princess had disappeared from her previous spot, and Paon crouched, almost like a cat before a tasty little bird. Whatever her plans was, it would be good.

 

But in the meantime, he delighted in adding just a touch of the insolence he usually buried deep inside to his voice. “Oooooh, that one almost came close to maybe hitting my shadow. Good job! Wanna try again?”

 

“YES!” Stoneheart charged.

 

_Just a couple more seconds, Mylene. Ladybug's coming._

 

The fear in her eyes had shrunk. She no longer looked on the verge of passing out. Pain was still there, discomfort and worry in spades. But Mylene saw Paon Bleu mocking Stoneheart, and that made things a little less scary, didn't it?

 

“Man, you just love playing _dirty_ , don't you?” he said as he ducked under another chunk of earth. “Then again, so do I.” His punch struck Stoneheart's left eye. “We're just birds of a feather, aren't we?”

 

Right before his next flip, Paon threw in a wink to his captive classmate.

 

An enormous fist of stone closed right where he had been a second ago, barely brushing against the tip of his scarves. Paon felt yet again the thrill of the fight, of knowing that the slightest slip-up would be costly. It was dangerous. Everything he had never been allowed to. And in the corner of his eyes, he caught a red and black blur coming down swinging. 

 

The umbrella flared open inches from Stoneheart's face, startling him in the middle of his punch and obscuring the superheroine from view at the crucial moment.

 

Ladybug vaulted over his outstretched arm. Her flip took her behind Stoneheart, where she pushed at both his knees. Pushed with enhanced magical strength, at an angle a massively misshapen thing like Stoneheart could not possibly compensate.

 

And even he was taken aback to notice the yo-yo strings tying up Stoneheart's legs.

 

The ground shook. Stoneheart was down.

 

Paon was certain it wasn't the pain. No, it must have been surprise, shock, or perhaps the feeling of losing his grip on poor Mylene. Whichever it was, the monster's dead grip loosened enough for a crumpled piece of paper to be thrown off.

 

For the second time now, Paon saw the creature's eyes widen with something akin to panic. Its whole upper body seemed the prey to a jerk and already it was half turned on its side to close its massive hand over the vaulting Ladybug.

 

“Forgetting someone handsome and witty?” he called loud and clear.

 

His fist collided with Stoneheart's jaw, with enough strength to get the monster's head to turn. Purple light was already surrounding the villain, but it didn't matter.

 

His princess' hand shredded the cursed ball of paper into pieces, and from within a black butterfly fluttered out.

 

“Bye-bye little butterfly,” she said while the black magic broke around Ivan.

 

Sighing, his head suddenly lighter, Paon looked at his hands in wonder. They had actually done it, hadn't they? Ladybug and him, the miraculous duo, saviors of Paris! He could not question it anymore, he was a hero, exactly like he had dreamed about. The two of them, the threat vanquished, the innocents saved and kneeling next to one another, the boy only just going back to normal as dark powers oozed out of him and faded into the ground.

 

“Ivan? Are you okay?” he heard Mylene ask softly.

 

“What the…? Mylene? Who are these two? What am I doing inside of the stadium?”

 

“Paon Bleu, humble servant to Paris and my princess, Ladybug,” he said with a grin, gesturing toward the place where Ladybug stood now that she had triggered the Restoration spell.

 

Light flooded the stadium on the flight of ladybug-like sprites. His skin tingled, not unlike a transformation into his heroic self, but with a gentleness to it that belied his princess. It was a warmth like a winter night near the fire, the smell of hot chocolate drifting to his nose. It was Ladybug's smile, and touch, and voice saying “Everything will be okay now.”

 

Restoration. The Power of Creation unleashed by the holder of the ladybug's luck.

 

Paon smiled. _What a wonderful spell_ , he thought, for once without any hint of jealousy.

 

…Wait. Hadn't Juuno mentioned three of Ladybug's spells to him before? Creation, Restoration and…

 

“Ladybug! The butterfly! You're supposed to purify it!”

 

Ladybug froze in the middle of her celebratory cheer. Wide eyed, she whipped her head around in the direction of the dark fluttering dot in the sky. And on her ears, the beeping became an urgent, aggressive noise.

 

“I'm going to change back!” 

 

They exchanged a grimace.

 

“I still have a little time. I'll give chase, try and keep an eye on it. Come back as soon as you can.”

 

Neither waited for a reply, Ladybug dashing out of the fields, himself jumping over the stands, then the stadium's wall. The black dot near vanished from his sight, its flight erratic, as if desperate, confused. Blinking put him at risk of losing the trail, and Paon felt very well the droplet of sweating pearling over his brows. 

 

For a few tense moment, his pulse throbbing against his temples, Paon scanned the open air between the stadium's roof and Paris' streets. Where was it?! Streets had emptied, some cars lied abandoned, doors wide open after Stoneheart's charge through the city for Kim. Pigeons on his left cooed, turning their curious heads toward the much bigger bird they could see. Some survival instincts of theirs likely triggered at the sight of a larger flyer, for they took off in a flurry of feathers, Paon shielding his face from the allergen covered demons. 

 

_ There! _ he thought with a rush of triumph. A dot like a fly outdoor had just passed over a white roof. Against another background, if he had not followed  a loose feather, he would not have noticed. 

 

Breath in.

 

Out.

 

Paon leaped. 

 

The black dot grew bigger with each heartbeat. After three, he could make out its shape. Seven beats in, some part of his brain registered the purple-ish patterns on its wing. It was the akuma. Paon knew it. 

 

Paon's biggest disadvantage was that once he jumped, he could not alter his trajectory in any way. With a howl of frustration, Adrien saw the damned butterfly swerved to the right. No, no, no! That could not happen. He was so close.

 

Desperate, Paon threw his arm forward, stretching to his very limit toward the butterfly. His glove brushed against the akuma's wings. Barely. 

 

But even in midair, he felt the sting of a fiery power, a burn that spread hard and fast, and Paon nearly forgot about his impending meeting with the ground. In a second, his self-defense lessons flashed before his eyes. Rolling. How to take a fall. How to meet the ground.

 

Paon Bleu rolled, flipped and jumped after the akuma with a grace that would have made his father cry tears of pride.

 

But the young superhero felt none of the joy such a thought would have brought when the butterfly evaded him a second time with a swift change of pace. This could not be happening! The damned thing was right there! He could see it clearly!

 

His boots hammered into the rooftops tiles as he pursued the thing.

 

His miraculous beeped.

 

“No, no, no, Juuno, this is not the time! I'm chasing the akuma! I can't change back now!”

 

The shrill noise drilled into his ears again, and Adrien felt cold at the tip of his fingers. In panic, he dove into an alley and behind the first hiding place he could find. The next moment, he was holding a small god in his hands.

 

“Sorry, Adrien,” said the kwami, his voice strained. “I tried to stretch it…”

 

Adrien could not physically hold it against Juuno. Digging through his pocket, he picked up a box of blueberries for such an emergency. “Don't worry about it, just dig in. Be quick please. I don't want to lose the--”

 

He could not spot it. Just a few seconds ago – not even a minute! –, the fluttering creature had been a black dot into the sky, easily spotted with Paon's eyes. But even if Adrien frantically searched around the spot he had last seen the butterfly, there seemed to be nothing.

 

When his princess came back to find him jumping around the rooftops of Paris, he had to break in the news. He had lost the trail.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juuno had called the current events an ironically good moment of bad luck. Ladybug's fated partner might not have showed up to help, but even if they failed now, not everything would be lost.
> 
> Thing would merely be dramatic instead of catastrophic.

They collapsed three hours later in an alley, Paon leaning against a dumpster and Ladybug leaning forward, her hands on her knees.

 

“Still not a sign of the akuma…”

 

Well, not while it was still in a flimsy, vulnerable butterfly stage. Copies of Stoneheart had started springing up around the streets of Paris, and the city was very close to a panic-induced breakdown. Ladybug had tried, desperately, to purify the poor bystanders that had been turned into immobile statues.

 

But they had no love letter to rip in their hands. They were Stoneheart if he hadn't had that weak point.

 

“I'm sorry, Princess. I said I would keep an eye on it, but I--” The rest was muffled by a red glove.

 

“Don't. Paon, it was my role to purify it in the first place. I forgot. That is not your fault. You even tried to remind me before it was too late.”

 

It killed Paon to see his partner so down on herself. To see doubt seep into her pose like poison, like a weight that pressed and pushed on her back until she folded.

 

Or broke.

 

“Ladybug. This was your first time.”

 

“That's not good enough! The akuma is gone and more people are turning into those monsters! It's my fault! If I hadn't just let it go without purifying it first… I… I…”

 

Ice gripped Paon's throat. Ladybug should not look this vulnerable. She should not look this distraught. “Listen to me, we will fix this. It's fine.”

 

“No, it's not! I should have been better! I'm not the leader you deserve, Paon!”

 

His blood ran cold.

 

She threw her yo-yo to the skyline.

 

“Wait!” he called, but far too late to stop her. She had already disappeared around a corner.

 

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing harshly. If she had just stayed a minute longer, he could have told her it was a lie.

 

\--

 

Things hadn't magically turned around for the better overnight, despite Adrien's best hopes.

 

The stonehearts had multiplied. People on the news reported seeing purple and black butterflies fluttering around the victims before they changed into statues of the akumatized Ivan. At least, now Parisians ran on sight if they noticed the damned akumas.

 

He had been reprimanded just the day before about using his cellphone in class, but he couldn't help it. The News Channels only ever showed reports of the stonehearts, saying over and over again that the experts couldn't tell what had happened, that they weren't sure if the poor victims would ever start moving again, or if they could be saved.

 

Adrien gritted his teeth. Of course they could be saved. According to Juuno, all it would take was purifying the first butterfly. It kept to the shadows for now, using its size and flight to stay out of sight until its original host's anguish returned. Then it would likely strike, and every golem in the city would start moving.

 

Paris needed Ladybug before that. He had to find her and convince her to come back and fight again.

 

\--

 

A certain someone had had the stunningly stupid idea to taunt Ivan about being turned into a monster.

 

Stoneheart returned, every copy started moving, and Mylene screeched 'not again!' Chloé being taken as well, however, was new.

 

\--

 

The part he didn't think fit with the rest, as he breathed hard against a wall having just escaped a dangerously close ambush with the transformed Ivan, was Alya coming up to him with her phone raised.

 

“Sorry, didn't get your name last time. Who are you, sir?”

 

Parts of him wanted to say that it wasn't the time. That he should try to go back help the police stop Stoneheart one way or another. But the model in him won out. Adrien grinned and produced another impossibly formal bow, one knee and one arm folded. “I'm Paon Bleu, at Paris' service, citizen.”

 

“My, my, you're a formal kind of guy, aren't you?”

 

With just as much flare, Adrien straightened and conspicuously leaned back on the wall, but with a much more relaxed-looking pose. _Come on, Adrien, don't let them see that kneeling just felt like pulling teeth._ “What can I say? This little bird was bred for perfect manners. I guess they stuck.”

 

“We'll see about that,” Alya declared. “You're a peacock, right? Well, according to the Internet, that means you can represent things such as beauty, truth, vision, guidance, healing and being a sacred animal in Hinduism. Is there some truth to any of that?”

 

“...You work fast.” _How did I not think of that?_

 

Smug, the aspiring reporter smirked. “I've got a pretty killer internet deal.”

 

“I bet. Well,” Adrien preened, grinning, “I'm obviously all about bea… beaaARGh… seriously?!”

 

Alya looked up from her phone's video recording, an unsure grimace on her face. “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, it's fine,” he said despite looking anything but fine. He seemed to be glaring at the brooch on his chest. “I'm just not supposed to lie. And jokes shouldn't count, but apparently they do.”

 

He didn't like the downright predatory grin that appeared on his classmate's face. “So you're always telling the truth.”

 

Adrien's model smile shone like a 1000 Watt light bulb. “Looks like it.”

 

“Who are you under the mask?”

 

Now, that was a bit predictable, if one asked Adrien. Regardless of the fact that Juuno had given him permission to lie here, he didn't actually need to.

 

His smile didn't slip one bit. “A boy that loves Paris very much.”

 

“Clever.” Alya's raised eyebrow and unimpressed glare told him it was anything but.

 

“I'm also a guy that is talking to an aspiring reporter right now.” He counted on his fingers, his grin widening with every second. “And someone that can absolutely rock the spandex look.”

 

A hand covered his mouth. And the girl it was attached to looked like she wanted to glare and snort at the same time. “No more talking.” Then, with regrets, “though you're not wrong about the spandex. Hot damn, dude. Do you work out?”

 

Sadly, yes. As part of his schedule, physical training was expected of him. And special coaches scrutinized his actions to make sure he would not grow too many muscles in one area while neglecting another. At least, his fencing lessons counted for something there.

 

“I probably need to go before whoever is behind this remembers I exist...” He was starting to crouch again to peek around the corner of the street when a thought occurred to me. Turning to Alya, he pointed to her phone. “Is that live?”

 

“Yup, I'm streaming live for my newly christened blog, Paon. This is an emergency situation. I don't want people to know _after_ the fact.”

 

_Good point._

 

Paon cleared his throat and straightened, before looking straight at the lens. “Ladybug, if you're listening, please come back.”

 

He saw Alya's hands clench around her phone, but she kept it steady. With a serious glance at him, she nodded.

 

“I can't do it on my own. It's true, you made a mistake on your first outing as a superhero, but that's nothing to be ashamed of. _I_ fell into a dumpster when I first tried out my suit.”

 

Alya's undignified snort made Adrien smirk. He hoped his Princess had had the same reaction, if she watched this.

 

“I'm just Paon Bleu. I can't do those amazing tricks with a yo-yo, or create anything that would help us win, or purify the akuma, or restore all the damages that's been done to Paris. I can jump and kick and punch a bit, but in the end, I'm just a servant of the Truth. And the truth is that I need you. Paris needs you. It's an enormous responsibility, but you were chosen for a reason. I know you can shoulder it. I'll help you in every way I can.”

 

Somehow, he found himself seeing through the lens, reaching with his gloved right hand for a woman standing in Alya's shadow. He knew his princess could hear him. The conviction seized his heart and wouldn't let go. The people in danger were disappearing from his sight. He wasn't in the street anymore, catching his breath and hiding the scratches he had gotten in a struggle with Stoneheart. He stood as if he were still on that roof when she fell on him. It was just the two of them, the Peacock and the Ladybug.

 

His voice broke. “You'll make more mistakes. I'll make more mistakes. And… and I think that's fine. We'll just power through each trial, one after the other. We can't let the villain win. Come back, Ladybug. Come back and we'll win.”

 

A discreet sniff broke the spell. There had been at least one person that hadn't disappeared between him and Ladybug. Alya had seen and heard every word in person, and though she kept the camera steady, he could see her chin trembling just a little.

 

The sassy girl didn't seem to know what to make of his speech at all. “Paon, that… wow.” She reached under her glasses to rub her eyes. “I really hope she heard that. I think I'll run with you to face the monster myself after a plea like that.”

 

“Nothing but the truth.” Adrien winked. “But, seriously, get yourself to safety, citizen.”

 

His joke seemed to let her anchor her emotions again, and she gave him a look that was much more _Alya_ than a second ago. “So, about your name…?”

 

“Wow, look at that, a giant rampaging rock monster! Gotta run!”

 

And though she might be yelling after him that this wasn't over, Paon Bleu took off like hell itself was chasing him. Funny how the thought of more reporters and more pictures and more of everything that had been part of his life as a model had him choose to fight the still growing rock monster.

 

Funny, or sad. But Adrien Agreste was not a boy to delve on the heavy stuff right before another fight.

 

Right now, he needed Ladybug. That was all that mattered.

 

 _Will you come, Princess?_ he wondered as he bounced off a wall, and unto a red-tiled rooftop. From there, he could see Stoneheart, already bigger than he had been in the stadium, and the red and blue flashing lights of the police force. _Will you leave me to fight an impossible opponent on my own?_

 

“Let go of the girls!” someone said, their voices distorted and amplified by a megaphone. “We repeat, let your hostages go and order your copies to stand down.”

 

Paon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Not that they had a way of knowing, but Stoneheart wasn't really in control of his actions. The hateful power curled deep within the cursed item had a will of its own. Even if Stoneheart let go of all his desires right this very moment, he would still demand Ladybug's miraculous.

 

Juuno had been uncertain about this, but he mentioned that using both the Black Cat's and the Ladybug's miraculous together would unleash a power unlike any other. In that, Juuno had called the current events an ironically good moment of bad luck. Ladybug's fated partner might not have showed up to help, but even if they failed now, not everything would be lost.

 

Thing would merely be dramatic instead of catastrophic.

 

Though, looking on the poor girls screaming for help held in Stoneheart's fist, Adrien would not call this the best case scenario either. His fist clenched. Mylene and Chloé were still calling for help. “Ladybug! Help us!”

 

“ _Adrien? I heard about your mom… Do you want to talk?”_

 

“Ladybug, come on…” he whispered in a hushed voice. “It won't matter if I break the item if you're not around to purify the akuma!”

 

She… she must have been late. Or perhaps she hadn't seen the video. Ladybug could have been busy or caught at a bad time. And Paon Bleu had no means of contacting her. _Stoneheart wants revenge on Chloé…_ He couldn't afford to wait.

 

“Come on, Stoneheart! I'm here!” he shouted above the screams and the police's demands on their megaphones.

 

The possessed teen turned and sent one hateful look his way. “I don't want **you**.”

 

“Oh?” Paon had his fists against his hips, trying not to look too annoyed. “But who could be more interesting than me?”

 

“I want Mylene. I want revenge on Chloé!” A mask of light shaped like a butterfly appeared on his face. “I want Ladybug and her miraculous too!”

 

But not the Peacock's? That little detail, he filed down for latter. He still had a giant rock monster to take down without actually hitting him. And two girls to rescue sooner than later. If things kept deteriorating, some policeman would ignore orders and shoot. His classmates might get caught in the crossfire.

 

Right. The priority had to be rescuing both Mylene and Chloé before things took a sharp turn for the absolute worst. Muttering a quick prayer, Paon zipped around the rooftops at top speed. This had better work.

 

His advantages over Stoneheart were his speed and his mobility. If he could not make use of them, he would be killed.

 

When Paon Bleu leaped, he had been standing behind Stoneheart's back. When he landed, Stoneheart had not even begun to turn.

 

And Paon had landed boots first on his enemy's shoulder.

 

This was it! the boy thought. He rolled across Stoneheart's harsh, solid skin, landed in the elbow, sprinted. He didn't need to get to the cursed item. He only had to get Stoneheart to loosen his grip enough for him to drop Mylene and Chloé.

 

Paon reached for them with a desperate throw of his body. His fingers nearly touched Mylene's.

 

Then, Mylene's hand was moving further away, and the girl's look was one of shock and horror. He realized why when a monstrously strong grip squeezed his left foot.

 

“Go away!” he heard the thunderous shout as something pulled so hard on his leg he thought it would come off.

 

It was almost like he had leaped. The weightlessness hit first. The loss of control, being just a body in the air, with wind so strong he could barely hear his own heartbeat anymore, that part came second. He tried to twist around, but even that was beyond his capacity.

 

All he knew was that he was bound to hit a house sooner or later.

 

This was gonna hurt...

 

It did not hurt.

 

The hands that caught him were firm, but gentle, and his body did not decelerate brutally, but followed the swing of a pendulum at the end of a red and black yo-yo. Paon only had the time to identify the feeling of slowing down before the hands gently dropped him into a sitting position.

 

He was staring at a blushing, red-eyed Ladybug. Such a far cry from the cocky, confident Princess he knew. Ladybug should be a shining beacon for Paris, and for him. But if she couldn't... well... He vowed to give her reasons to.

 

“Paon, I...”

 

“You don't need to say anything, Princess.” He grabbed her right hand with his. “You came back. You saved my butt from another humiliating mistake. Hear those cheers down in the street? That's the people of Paris rooting for you.”

 

“No one's rooting, Paon.” Ladybug looked dubious, though a little flushed too.

 

Paon Bleu's grin was wide and wild. With one twist, he got to his feet and wrapped his arm around her shoulders to show her the whole city unfolding before them. “Oh, just you wait, Princess. Mark my words. It's going to be spectacular.”

 

Ladybug giggled, hiding her face behind her face, but smiling and eyes twinkling.

 

 _That's what I'm talking about._ “Now, let's go rock this villain's world.”

 

“… That was terrible.”

 

Paon raised his nose in the air, absolutely arrogant. “It was magnificent and you know it. I said it, that makes it the truth.”

 

She very much looked like she wanted to argue the point, but her intelligent gaze also recognized a futile debate when it stared her back in the face whilst wearing a peacock mask. Instead, she settled for a deadpan, “I suddenly regret coming back.”

 

But she smirked and suspiciously bumped into him as she swung off the roof with her yo-yo.

 

Paon jumped after her. “You can't lie to me, you know!”

 

“Your lie-detector is off today then!”

 

Did he imagine the jolt given by his miraculous? Paon could have smiled, thinking of the way Juuno would huff and puff like a diva. He _could_ have smiled indeed, but his eyes trailed on his partner's form, on the grin of audacity that was peeking from behind her mask. Paon's heart squeezed.

 

He dashed right before her, skidding to a halt over the tiles with a clumsy jerk.

 

“Before we get there, Ladybug, I… I want to ask… I…” _The Peacock lives by the truth._ “Who are you? Do you think we know each other?”

 

“Paon, we can't.” She avoided looking at him. One might even think she was focusing on the path of destruction caused by Stoneheart. “Not right now. Our identities are our most precious secret. It's too soon. We should give ourselves time to get used to it before anything.”

 

His magical senses went off, his sight focusing on the little signs. The logic was found, a classic of the genre, even. But… his miraculous insisted that there was another reason lying in wait, under the surface of her solid, confident behavior. It was nearly a lie. Just on the verge of it.

 

She wasn't wrong. But that didn't mean she had the right reasons.

 

She swung her yo-yo again, this time for good. Paon could only allow himself a moment to look at her navigate the rooftops with an agility unlike anything he had seen before donning his own miraculous. She was vision, a girl that could take on the whole world and _would,_ for what was right.

 

“I'll love that girl, whoever she is beneath the mask.”

 

His miraculous hummed, as if making itself witness to his vow.

 

However, he would concede that perhaps, the army of rock monsters could take priority. People in the street were running and hiding. Police barricades littered the ground, cars overturned, officers clinging to their injured limbs. The army seemed like a wave of stone and malice washing over the streets of Paris.

 

And here he was, playing Romeo. _You are a superhero!_ Paon mentally screamed. _Act like it._

 

Before long, they had reached the most famous touristic attraction in all of Paris, and kept hidden for fear of Stoneheart's reaction. His rock soldiers would overwhelm them if they didn't get away in time. So, for now, Paon Bleu had to share a spot behind a chimney with a girl he had just vowed to love. _So nothing distracting, then._

 

“There is only one way to stop so many stonehearts, Paon. We need to get to the original.” Ladybug bit her lips when she was thinking. He had not noticed before, but now that he did, Paon thought that was awfully cute. “Can you distract him?”

 

Paon took on his best model pose. “Can I?” He flexed, showing off the biceps his coaches had him slave on every week. “With this body?”

 

With every ounce of dignity he had, he ignored her annoyed cry of “Paon, oh my God!” His cheeks did not burn up, because he was a professional that could take a little critique from his favorite public. His delectable public, partner, princess and supreme leader. So what if she hadn't fallen for the neon blue punk hair and the Greek statue body? She had blushed too – he had not hallucinated that no matter how much Ladybug would later deny it!

 

“Okay, okay, point. You can be distracting, Paon. Except it's the enemy you're supposed to be distracting, not me.”

 

Paon Bleu smiled slyly, then jumped down right behind the defensive line formed by the police. A handful of them turned on the spot, some of them hopeful, others frowning. Their stare might have affected him had he not just successfully distracted Ladybug with his beauty.

 

He strutted up to the higher graded officer on the premise, who, coincidentally was Sabrina's father. “Officer Raincomprix, we--”

 

“You two have done enough,” the officer told him with an angry, dismissive tone.

 

Paon did not need to see the swirl of blue in the man's aura to spot the lie. “And what have you done exactly?” he asked with a cutting growl.

 

The officer flinched. For a moment, he seemed to clench his fist, a bitter grimace on his face. _Not enough._ Just as Paon knew. Neither the police or the new heroic duo had done enough to save Paris. Yet. But the open emotions on the man's face disappeared, pushed behind a more stoic, though still hostile, mask.

 

If the man wasn't going to help before, then he probably would be downright obstructive after this. _Great. Impulse control the next time, Adrien._

 

“Listen, this is not the time to fight about it. Ladybug has a plan and--”

 

“Let my daughter go at once!” an amplified voice surrounded them.

 

Paon got a second of warning. Hearing the mayor's words seemed to grant him a form of prescience. He knew, oh he damn well knew, that this had been precisely the wrong way to phrase it. That a psychopath like the one behind Stoneheart's creation would interpret it in a 'clever' way.

 

Adrien Agreste never felt a fear as powerful as the one that overcame him at the sight of his friend being hurled from the height of the Eiffel Tower.

 

His legs sprang to life. He dashed like a madman toward the tower, knowing that every second brought Chloé closer to a fatal meeting with concrete. What could he do?! How did one make a leap soft enough to prevent mortal whiplash? Physics was one of his best subjects. He loved its equations and the ways the world seemed a bit more rational under their laws. And right now, all he could think of were fatal whiplashes and deceleration and projectile theories going wrong.

 

His best friend would die right in front of him, and he couldn't do a thing!

 

 _No._ _Please no! Ladybug!_

 

It was her he begged in the end. When the powerlessness sank into his bones, he thought of her, standing over Alya protectively, swinging from one roof to another with grace greater than his. He thought, he begged, he prayed with all his heart. And he heard over the mayor's cry of horror, over his own sobs, over Stoneheart's roar, the zipping of a yo-yo and a whoosh of air.

 

Red and black swooped down. She caught Chloé in softer descent than anything Paon could have managed, and let the poor girl down.

 

The princess he had sworn to serve. Had he not already promised, Paon Bleu would have renewed his fealty right here and there.

 

Strangely enough, Chloé's first words when she saw herself hanging in the arms of an honest to Juuno superheroine were: “I didn't promise.”

 

Chloé's silhouette appeared haloed by an ugly dark green and blue mix. It had been a technical truth. A nitpick about the truth rather than the meaning behind it. But Adrien was so consumed by the relief of seeing her alive and alright that he didn't question it any longer. He could have just thrown up and laughed in the same breath from the sheer pull on his nerves.

 

Right afterward, he was distracted by the swarm of butterflies gathering in the air and forming a giant face right in front of the Eiffel Tower. The villain had shown itself at last. This time, Adrien couldn't even refute the lies, his Princess did it first. With a dozen swings of her yo-yo, she shattered the swarm and the villain's grand standing in one grand stroke.

 

And he fell in love all over again while the people of Paris cheered for the birth of their greatest protector.

 

\--

 

When all was said and done however, there was one thing that Paon Bleu could absolutely not afford to miss: getting to Nathalie and the Gorilla quickly.

 

Adrien slid out of the boy's bathroom in Collège Françoise-Dupont, wincing at the number of missed calls and texts from Nathalie. Then, his brows shot upward as he realized just how many messages his father had left him.

 

That was to say: none.

 

Adrien nearly walked right into a pillar. Juuno's timely intervention got him to freeze just one step away from the cement. Now was not the time for distractions, even if he felt Juuno's eyes hint not so subtly toward his phone.

 

Now, where were Nathalie and the Gorilla?

 

\--

 

“Nathalie, was Adrien with you during the second akuma attack?”

 

Her gaze flicked to the teenaged boy she saw stumbling through the courtyard, as if he had been hidden there the whole time.

 

Gabriel Agreste's question sounded like what one asked before dishonorably discharging some incompetent underling.

 

Nathalie did not hesitate. “Of course, sir. His bodyguard and myself were close by when the monster struck and we didn't let him out of our sight for the duration. We stayed hidden since we were outside at the time of the attack.”

 

“I see.” There was a pause on the other line. “Thank you, Nathalie. You may proceed with the photoshoot at five thirty. That is all.”

 

Well, if her employer ever found out, he would not only fire her, but he would destroy her first.

 

Nathalie Sancoeur steeled herself and vowed to be as her namesake described.

 

\--

 

“Hey, dude?”

 

Adrien jolted himself out of his contemplation. Teachers had gathered the students back in their classes. Nathalie had of course sent him back with the rest, citing his desire for a normal school experience. Well, he got his wish. Still reeling from the excitement of their first honest to God victory as superheroes, Paon Bleu was forced to sit down and _be still_. That had been a torture and a half, but his mind kept replaying Ladybug's triumph, over and over. She was the princess he had sworn his service to. But he wasn't at the feet of the Eiffel Tower any longer. He was in class, and he had been called out.

 

The boy that he had been sitting next to yesterday looked at him with a hesitant smile, his body language screaming of embarrassment.

 

“Adrien, right?” He waited for Adrien to nod before continuing, still rubbing at the back of his neck. “Look, there's a couple of things I want to say. I wasn't quite sure what to think of you yesterday, what's with the confrontation with Marinette and Chloé. It… it looked like you were selling out your friend, but you weren't the one that put that stupid gum there anyway and I…”

 

Adrien's classmate played with the chord of his headphones, looking to the ground.

 

“What I mean to say is, you were pretty damn cool during the monster attack. You could have stayed behind and… you could have done like _us_ , but you distracted that thing and led it away from the school.”

 

“I…” Adrien found himself unable to come up with the right thing to say. He had not considered what it must have looked like to his classmates beyond the problem of his secret identity. To him, there hadn't been a difference between acting as Adrien or as Paon. It needed to be done and he had the power to do it.

 

To someone not in the known though? The whole experience was so very different.

 

The boy's voice strained. “It made me almost wish I had tried too, you know? Like, I'd given you grief for not standing up for Chloé when you stood for everyone when people's lives were in danger. Who am I to think that? I was just a coward.”

 

“Don't,” Adrien cut in, a slight frown on his face. “What I did was dangerous, and you… seriously, it was perfectly okay to stay hidden. I thought I was going to die at times. There's nothing wrong with keeping yourself safe.”

 

“Yeah, but you did something. Everyone else… I…” he struggled with his words, fists trembling, shoulders hunched. “It's… I'm sorry, okay, dude. I shouldn't have judged you so quickly!”

 

Juuno's power struck him before he could even speak the reassurance, and Adrien's mind reeled. Not even for this? People were allowed to make mistakes, weren't they?! It didn't matter if Nino had not waited long enough to judge. People did that. They were humans.

 

“I don't mind,” he said, because anything else would have been a lie.

 

There was an awkward beat of silence, then a sigh of relief. “Wanna start over then?”

 

_Yes!_

 

“Name's Nino, dude.”

 

The hand that was offered was instantly shaken, Adrien being absolutely as eager as a newborn puppy. A friend. He was making a new friend all on his own! Without Chloé or Father or a whole layer of complex fashion-Machiavellian-politics to boggle it all down. Someone was willing to be his friend without thinking about his money or fame!

 

“Adrien Agreste!” he yelped, or maybe shouted. He wasn't even sure himself. Just that it was loud and more high-pitched than his dignity would have liked.

 

“Are you okay, Adrien?”

 

“I haven't made a friend in years!”

 

Nino stared.

 

Okay, maybe he shouldn't have sounded so incredibly enthusiastic about it. “Sorry.”

 

“Nah, don't worry. Your guru Nino will show you all about the delicate mechanisms of brohood,” Nino said magnanimously. “First thing's first: bros before hoes.”

 

Adrien bit his lips. Should he? Should he not? Well, he kinda knew what Juuno would vote for. Option A then. “…What's a hoes?”

 

The very wise and savvy air that Nino had been giving himself more or less shattered. The teenager himself seemed torn between lamenting Adrien's ignorance and laughing. By the twitch on the corner of Nino's mouth, the latter seemed more likely. “Dude.”

 

Adrien tried to hide his blush in vain. “Is that something I should know?”

 

“Wow, you poor little sunshine child. You needed me in your life even more than I thought. Alright, lesson zero: always listen to the Nino.”

 

Adrien carefully raised a brow in a picture perfect representation of skepticism. He wasn't a model for nothing. Except when it came to blushing in a social setting. For that, he was a novice. A baby turtle, at best.

 

“Dude. You clearly need my wisdom.”

 

“Point.” He shrugged, and put his hands together in what he hoped passed for admiring deference. “Teach me, oh great teacher!”

 

Five minutes later, his pure purity was a bit less pure. In other words, Adrien felt dirty just knowing. He would like his innocence back, thank you very much.

 

“I think I might have been happier staying an innocent sunshine child, Nino.”

 

“Blasphemy, son, you're just overwhelmed.” Nino patted his back condescendingly, and yet Adrien felt all warm and fuzzy inside.

 

But the boys' chuckling echoed in a suddenly dead quiet classroom, and they both blinked in shock before turning around to see why. Their classmates had their eyes fixed on the door, or, more precisely, on the teenager that stood there with a look of utter defeat on his face.

 

Ivan.

 

“ _Stoneheart_ , _”_ Adrien could have sworn was whispered somewhere behind him.

 

Ivan's gaze flicked briefly in that direction, and whatever whispers had risen died down. That… that wasn't a good sign. Adrien had trouble understanding how a room could be drained of all its warmth without even a warning. But he saw. Oh, he saw it quickly enough when Ivan climbed the stairs to get to his seat.

 

Rose, that peppy blonde girl Adrien had begun to recognize as the other official sunshine child of their class, _ducked to the side_. And yet… yet, the part that incensed Adrien the most was Ivan's lack of reaction. The big guy just sighed and let himself fall down into his seat, pretending not to see how the conversations around him all stalled. Like he had seen it before. Maybe all day.

 

Half the students were walking on eggshells around Ivan. Adrien understood why, especially since it had happened twice. Even Nino had become quieter, _cautious_. None of them were doing it to be mean, but Adrien could see how it was wearing Ivan thin.

 

Before he knew what he was doing, Adrien had climbed the stairs in the classroom, and everyone turned to him; Ivan, with wariness and fatigue in his glare.

 

“You're not going to turn into him again, you know?” were his opening words. Juuno had been categorical. The butterflies would not be able to return to the same person twice. The negative emotions they fed on were consumed, so the likelihood of the exact conditions aligning again were nearly non-existent. It wouldn't have happened at all if they had caught the akuma straight away the first time. “You're allowed to be pissed off about how you're being treated.”

 

Ivan shot to his feet and roared. Half their classmates shrieked and hid under their desks, as the sound had not been too dissimilar to Stoneheart's rampages. Even Adrien had had a bit of a jumpscare there, his heart still pumping fast. But, as Ivan became quiet again and shot him a deadpan look, Adrien's lips twisted into an easy smile.

 

For a second there, he had been convinced that Ivan would punch him in the face. Though he would not have tried dodging it, Adrien was very glad it hadn't happened. If there had been a bruise of any kind, Father would have had an aneurysm. Or he would have forever pulled him out of public school.

 

So screaming worked. Primal cry was all the rage anyway.

 

“Feeling better?”

 

Ivan's voice was quiet enough that Adrien almost didn't hear him. “A bit. Yeah. Thanks, huh, Adrien, right?”

 

“Yup.” Adrien popped the sound as much as possible, grinning. “And your name is definitely Ivan and nothing else. No matter what people will say. Got it?”

 

Ivan's fist tightened again, but this time, the boy's eyes were wet. “… Thanks. Marinette said something like that too.” He sniffed, a hint of a smile on his surprisingly soft features. “I mean, she had been trying to help before that thing got to me again… What you said was a lot like her little speech to me.”

 

 _Marinette said that, huh?_ he wondered with a quick glance back to his classmate. So far, she might have been the only one to speak this way to Ivan. Well, that wouldn't do.

 

People in a crowd moved like a sea, but with recent events, they had pushed Ivan back on a deserted island.

 

With a faked stern look, Adrien rose his hands in front of him. “Alright, people, nothing to see, just a normal teenager being pissed and not turning into a monster. As you can all see! And hear! You heard that, didn't you? That sounded angry. Real angry. And look, perfectly normal, soft supple skin as opposed to rock hard armor. No dangerous shining violet eyes. No rampage of ultimate destruction! Just a normal teenager. And kinda thoroughly pissed that you treat him like he has the plague.”

 

There his cheerful tone of voice belied harsher words, and he saw some of his classmates have the good grace to look guilty.

 

“I'm sorry, Ivan,” Rose was the first one to say.

 

But she wasn't the last. Alix and Max and Nathanaël moved forward, as if struck out of their daze by Rose's apology and added their own. Even Kim offered a fist for Ivan to bump, even if he teased the guy about it. Juleka on the other hand didn't apologize, but mostly because she said she hadn't been _scared_ and it was kind of impressive.

 

The heavy atmosphere that had weighted down the class evaporated. There were sounds other than hushed whispers at last, and Adrien breathed a sigh of relief. Well, his mission here was done. After one friendly punch on Ivan's shoulder, he walked down the steps feeling like a lawyer that had just won his case.

 

Near the bottom of the steps, Alya and Marinette both gawked at him, the first recovering quickly enough to analyze him from head to toe. He did not know what she saw exactly, but the intrepid reporter girl suddenly smiled, and took out her phone to jot down something.

 

They weren't the only ones staring, however. Chloé eyed him thoughtfully, neither annoyed or fawning.

 

He wasn't sure what to make of that.

 

“...Dude. Seriously?”

 

Adrien jumped a bit at Nino's tone, and sat down quickly. “What?” he said, a little defensive, more so than in front of their entire class. “Too much?”

 

“No.” Nino grinned, looking impressed. “That was good. Like, people were being all nervous all day about Ivan, and you just swoop in and BAM! Problem solved. You can be pretty damn cool, Adrien.”

 

Adrien felt his cheeks lit up on fire. No one had ever called him cool before. Not anyone that wasn't a fangirl, at least. He didn't think he had done anything extraordinary either. He had just reminded everyone of what Ladybug had told them all about the akumas. Just the truth. Now, his class wouldn't feel like being stuck with twenty people in a cage with a dangerous animal.

 

“Of course I can be. Watch and learn, oh great teacher!”

 

He taught him. He taught them all! Adrien had had a whole life to imagine having fun with friends. Now that he actually had the chance, he would damn well seize it with both hands and hug it for all it was worth. Nino lost it perhaps two minutes in, and could not stop wheezing laughter or begging for mercy. Not that Adrien hadn't devolved into a primitive dialect of gasps of airs, laughs and uneven fist banging on his desk. His sides hurt.

 

Once or twice, he even heard giggles coming from Alya's and Marinette's shared seats. They at least seemed to have forgiven him for his involvement in the latest Chloé incident (as he was given to understand that there were _many_ ). He wasn't sure if the girl with pigtails had believed him, but…

 

Wait… Pigtails. Black hair. About his height. Lithe. Hints of Asian descent. And… yup, blue eyes too.

 

Holy fashion. Had he just…? She couldn't be… Not sitting literally one seat behind him in class every day, at least! He was not going to just be sitting in front of his princess for the whole school year, was he?

 

As soon as attention was diverted by Alya calling Nino out, Adrien decided that he must have obviously forgotten something very important for today's lesson and leaned to take it out of his bag. “Juuno? Can I ask you something?”

 

His kwami, hidden behind his history textbook gave him a warning look. “This isn't the place.”

 

“I know, I know, but this is important. Is Ladybug one of my classmates? Can you tell if her kwami's around?”

 

 _His_ kwami did not react for the span of four heartbeats.

 

“She doesn't want you to know.”

 

It dosed cold water over his excitement. Right. Right. All to his glee at suddenly (possibly) seeing his Princess so soon, he had forgotten that little detail. Ladybug would rather keep her privacy. Knowing who they were behind the mask was a big show of trust, and they'd only worked together once so far. It wouldn't be fair for him to cheat and find out so easily.

 

But would it be his fault if he just took a little look back, and compare his mental image of his princess with Marinette? _Alright, get the idea out of your head, Marinette isn't Ladybug, and even if she is, you shouldn't be looking._ _She'll tell you when she's ready. Not sooner. It shouldn't be your choice, Adrien._

 

But she had pigtails. Like, black hair tied in pigtails. At age fifteen, or was that sixteen? Yeah, it wasn't a common hairstyle as far as he could tell.

 

It had to be a coincidence. Of course. Juuno simply refused to give him a hint. It wasn't his kwami telling him pointedly that just because he could see through glamour that he should peep into people's private lives

 

\--

 

The (very plausible) theory taunted him for the remainder of the class. He had never been so tensed sitting down before, but at the end of the day, every muscle in his body screamed in abuse when he stood from his seat. That was what feeling the weight of Ladybug's stare on the back of his head felt like – even if he probably had imagined Marinette staring.

 

Why would she have? It wasn't like he was a supermodel… oh, wait. Okay, so there was always that reason, but other than that, he had only just… more or less rallied the whole class in treating Ivan like a normal human being, something Marinette herself had tried, or at least something similar, according to Ivan.

 

Adrien very loudly groaned, prompting Nino to wonder his general well-being. To which, he answered that he was not looking forward to his photoshoot that evening.

 

“It's not canceled? There was a city-wide crisis! My parents have texted me three times to tell me to get home already. We're gonna spend all the evening together because of how scared they had been.”

 

“Well, my father…” He felt a pinch on his heart. “He… my father knows I haven't been injured so he said there was no reason for us to cancel my appointments.”

 

Adrien did _not_ like the look on Nino's face. It pricked a defensive part of him. He didn't want people judging his father. He didn't want to be pitied. “Dude, that's cold.”

 

“In the world of business, you cannot simply act according to your emotions,” he bit out, growing frustrated with all this.

 

He knew the phrase sounded rehearse. He knew Juuno disapproved – his bag had subtly rattled. It was an old thing, that phrase. Something half-remembered from the times Adrien would sometimes sit at the dinner table with his mother and his father. Father would say it, once in a while.

 

Nino had apparently gotten the hint, and lowered his cap a little over his eyes. “… Fine. But text me once you're done, okay? We still need to get our team together for the League event.”

 

“Sure.” Adrien nodded easily. “It might be a little late, depending on the photographer's mood, but I'll contact you afterward.”

 

He made a mental note to add this to his agenda as soon as he got home. Maybe he should ask Nathalie. Why, if he pleaded, surely she would relent and give him a chance to reorganize his schedule enough to allow for social interactions.

 

All for the good of Agreste Designs, of course.

 

Adrien was of the opinion that his emotional stability was crucial for both his and Father's reputation. It was thus strictly the truth. At least, that was how he would try to pitch the idea to Nathalie. With any chance, Juuno would not be too picky.

 

Smirking, Adrien looked up from his phone, having reached the gates of the school. And there was always the option of just saying he wanted to have fun like a well-adjusted teenager. That could work too.

 

“Adrien?” he heard, and that was not Nathalie. Oh no.

 

It was Marinette. Right next to him. Alone.

 

He put in every effort not to scream incoherently. “Y-y-y-yes?”

 

“It was very kind, what you did for Ivan.” The girl fiddled with the hems of her vest. “He doesn't deserve to be treated like a monster because of what Hawk Moth did to him. He's just as much of a victim as Mylene, Kim and… Chloé were in this. He told me he didn't even remember his stunt as Stoneheart the first time. He just blacked out.”

 

That detail, Juuno hadn't had time to share with Adrien, but the obvious confusion Ivan had shown both times had let Adrien reach the same conclusions. And more importantly, “Yeah, he isn't responsible for Hawk Moth's actions. But people in our classes were treating him as if he was waiting for a chance to make it happen again. I'm glad you talked to him before.” At her surprised look, he added, “Ivan told me. You were kind to him.”

 

“Thanks,” she smiled faintly. “I misjudged you before.”

 

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled, hoping she wouldn't notice his blush. “It did look pretty bad. You're not the only one that thought that either.”

 

To his surprise though, Marinette looked away. “Yes, but I didn't believe you either when you told me the truth. It just looked like you were not even going to own up to what you did.”

 

Adrien cringed. Yikes. He really hadn't made a good first impression, hadn't he? It almost made him regret what he had said back then.

 

“ _It is never crueler than a lie.”_

 

Juuno's words though. They stuck to his skin. What if he had lied? Wouldn't it be just the same? He would have stood up for Chloé, but what were the chances that she did the same for him?

 

“Sorry, Adrien. I judged you without knowing and I jumped to conclusion. I think… I think you're a good person, even if you are apparently friend with Chloé.”

 

The tone was joking, but Adrien could not quite muster up a smile. He was. His feelings were hard to explain, but he didn't want to stop being friends with her. Seeing her flailing through the air had nearly made him go mad with panic. She was not perfect, had never been and he wouldn't expect her to be. But…

 

“ _Adrien? I heard about your mom.”_

 

He shook his head, pushing down the memory. Nathalie would be here any moment now to bring him to his next shoot. He couldn't start thinking about that now. After a deep breath, he willed his heartbeat to slow down. They had saved the day. Him and Ladybug.

 

Him and Marinette, he would guess. Two young heroes, ready to face the world. Didn't that have a nice ring to it? _Well, maybe not now,_ he added, bemused at the darkening sky. _Though I bet it will happen eventually. I should ask Juuno if my boots would stop me from slipping. That sounds like an important thing to know while jumping on rooftops._

 

On his right, Marinette took one look at the curtain of rain that began falling over Paris and let out a deep groan.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Y-yeah, I just… I forgot it was going to rain. I had a lot to think about this morning.”

 

Trying not to smirk, Adrien offered his umbrella. _Yeah, I bet you had a lot on your mind, Princess._

 

She looked at him in suspicion. “What are you doing?”

 

“My chauffeur is just waiting for me.” He gestured toward the slick black car parked right in front of the school. “I'll be fine. I don't want you catching a cold because you got wet. Take it. I promise there's no gum on this one either,” he added with a wink and a grin.

 

“You could have done anything to this umbrella,” Marinette pointed out with a falsely stern voice that so reminded him of Ladybug.

 

“Why, have I not been a _model_ of purity and goodness this whole time?”

 

“That wasn't a pun, was it?”

 

Adrien grinned. Winked.

 

“Take care, okay?”

 

“S-see you later.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was something so sincere in the tone of her voice that Paon nearly did not notice the faint hints of blue gathering around her. And yet, he did not want to believe it to be a lie. His Princess was cutting her heart open for him. Who was he not to believe her?

It was spectacularly hard not to stare at his Princess when she winked or grinned or called him “Birdie”. He wanted to say he disliked the nickname for being _cute_ , but he couldn't. It made his insides melt into a sort of sweet goo every time.

 

He had it bad.

 

But four akuma battles in, and he was completely unable to dissociate Ladybug from Marinette. Maybe it was just because they were classmates and one of the few girls he knew. Maybe he was just wishing to see his Princess in her.

 

Juuno wasn't talking, and Adrien had to remind himself that his Princess did not want them to know. She had a right to keep to her privacy if she wished. The two of them were still little more than strangers. It was fine. It was logical and fair in a way he could understand, even if he was dying a little on the inside.

 

That did not, however, keep him from complimenting his princess. “--and that is more or less the complete list of reasons why I think Ladybug is the best.”

 

“Man, you like to talk,” Ladybug teased.

 

“I don't get to do it as myself often.”

 

He could have just giggled for how light his heart felt. Only the fact that they weren't on their own allowed Adrien to retain enough dignity not to. Perhaps the fact that he was being filmed helped. One didn't grow up an Agreste without developing an immediate control of themselves in front of a camera. And a little part of him still somehow feared that his Father would find the footage and just magically know that his son was acting like a fool.

 

Alya snapped her fingers to get their attention back. “So, the public cannot wait any longer. Paon. Dumpster. Story.”

 

Oh yes, somewhere out there, his father had to be grinding his teeth.

 

Paon let go of an exaggerated put-upon sigh. “It's not a great and epic adventure. I was doing this for the first time and I did not know my miraculous had a time limit.”

 

Ladybug blinked in undisguised shock.

 

“You mean your…” She coloured and cleared her throat. _Nice save._ “Err, hmm, well, you hadn't been told?”

 

Dodging a question from his Princess was harder than from a random stranger. He suspected that it had to do with being one of the 'servant' chosen. _Damn geas._ “I might have been too excited to wait for the instruction manual.”

 

“So,” Alya prompted.

 

“So I was in mid-jump and I lost my powers and there was a dumpster to cushion my fall.”

 

For a second, he thought, perhaps, Ladybug and Alya had been overwhelmed into silence by a sudden surge of compassion for his trouble. But no, they had just needed a second to process the idea. _Then_ they both started laughing, clutching their sides.

 

“Princess! How can you betray me like that?”

 

“I'm sorry, Birdie. But just thinking about the look on your face...” She snorted, and tried to hide it behind her gloved hands. Her breathing was returning to normal, though she was giving a sigh of relief at calming down.

 

“It wasn't very fun...” he grumbled. “I am almost sure someone had thrown away an old pizza in there. And old socks.”

 

Ladybug begged between tears of laughter for a five minutes break. Alya, not faring much better, agreed with a wheezing 'okay'.

 

Adrien, meanwhile, contemplated all the myriad ways he could buy a plane ticket to the middle of nowhere and become a hermit. No one would know that the crazy old blonde dude with the bizarre bird would have once been an aspiring hero before he was laughed out of Paris.

 

When he had reached the part of his fantasy where Juuno would serve as bait in a wolf trap, Ladybug straightened, claiming that her ribs hurt. Too much laughing apparently.

 

“Sorry, Birdie. I'm sure it was very traumatic.” And to prove her sincerity, she kissed him on the cheek. “There, all better.”

 

All better, _indeed!_ Perhaps he should fall in dumpsters more often?

 

On second thought, no, but maybe it was something to consider the next time his princess felt sad.

 

“Flirting, nice,” Alya commented, to Ladybug's immediate dismay.

 

“W-what? No, I wasn't flirting.”

 

“Hu-uh, girl, sure you weren't. But hey, you two look pretty close...” Alya kept a perfect poker face in response to Ladybug's squawk. “So, do you know each other's identities?”

 

Paon not-so-subtly tried to get out of the camera's lens. He might have a decent poker face and a model smile, but there was a blush on his face that he knew might give him away. Or convince people he was guilty of something.

 

Luckily, Ladybug regained her cool on the spot. “This is a bit too personal.”

 

“Can't bla-AaA– ” Paon coughed. “I was trying to be reassuring!” he yelled at no one in particular.

 

The two girls shared a concerned and slightly afraid look. Alya seemed the more concerned of the two, and reached across the bench to pat him on the back like one would do with a choking person.

 

“No, no. S'fine. It's my stupid finicky miraculous. It _refuses_ to let me even joke around. I wanted to say 'Can't blame Alya for trying', but apparently, Ladybug can and should.”

 

The patting stopped.

 

Ladybug raised a red and black-dotted fist in triumph. “You heard the man. Now stop asking, citizen!”

 

Alya's eyes narrowed at him. “You're no longer my favorite interviewee.”

 

“Betrayed twice!”

 

\--

 

It was definitely egotistical for him to be checking the comments on Alya's interview, but he couldn't help it. It was addicting to see how many people like Paon's antics. He had never really checked for comments from critics when modeling. Nathalie gave him a summary of what had been said about him, and how he could improve his photos for the next cover. Like it or not, he was going to be modeling anyway.

 

But Paon? Paon Bleu was a free bird that answered only to one person.

 

However, being told that he was funny had made him want to fist bump every student he met in the hallways. Not 'he's such a cutie' or 'that guy's silly' or 'fell in a dumpster, LOL!'. Oh no, being funny.

 

Being listened to. Being heard, not dismissed.

 

He could get drunk on that feeling as surely as he had jumping around Paris.

 

And, as had been proven before, a drunk-on-his-feelings Adrien had no situational awareness. All his daydreaming was cut short by the bump against his chest and the sound of papers falling to the floor. Mortified, he put his phone back in his pocket and knelt to pick up the mess.

 

“Whoa, sorry, Sabrina.” He took in the sight of her wide eyes and hanging jaw. “Are you okay?”

 

The redhead quickly raised her hands in front of her. “A-A-Adrien! I'm fine! No, what am I saying? She'd kill me. Are you alright? I'm so sorry, Adriki-- _Adrien_! I should have jumped out of the way.”

 

Adrien had been chuckling along until he suddenly realized that she was not. “No… you shouldn't have. I'm the one that wasn't looking at where he was going. You were just standing there…” _In front of the bathroom?_ he thought as his gaze went upward.

 

“Yeah. Still, I'm sorry. I messed up your shirt. It's all wrinkled now,” the poor girl fretted, wringing her hands and sending nervous looks at the bathroom door. “Chloé's gone to the bathroom. I… I can tell her you're here though.”

 

Adrien had no actual desire to be smothered today.

 

“No, no, it's okay,” he said softly. “You're the one I wanted to talk to.”

 

Which was true. Maybe he hadn't thought about it before, but now that he saw Chloé's most commonly seen friend, he rather wondered.

 

He couldn't recall a time he had seen Sabrina with other people. Sure, some people might just be more comfortable with one friend they really liked and trusted, but... “Are you okay?”

 

“Of course,” she hurried to say, shrinking a little on herself. “You did not bump into me _that_ hard.”

 

Adrien didn't buy her joking tone. “I mean, with the way Chloé is treating you? I know she can be… demanding. And, huh, imposing and all those really kinda scary things.”

 

“It's okay. She's my friend, Adrien. It's only normal that we would do things for each other.”

 

The dark blue shades swirled around the girl, and no one but Adrien could see the sadness seeping from the colored shackles on her emotions. _It's only normal_.

 

_Chloé doesn't share._

 

She had been his only friend for a long time. She was also Sabrina's only friend. Funnily enough, he had never really met with the girl. Chloé didn't bring her, and in the rare occasions they had met outside of a private setting, she had instantly directed attention at herself, shoving Sabrina in the background.

 

_Chloé doesn't share. She likes her friends having no one but her._

 

“I don't know if it is, but it shouldn't be one-sided at least. You can agree with that, right?” There were flickers of faint green in Sabrina's eyes, like she wanted to agree. Flickers, for they flashed out nearly as soon as they appeared. Adrien grabbed her hands. “You know you can speak up sometimes, right? Do something you want rather than just what she says?”

 

“Chloé is…” Sabrina started, but as her gaze caught on to the bathroom door, she fell into an obstinate silence.

 

No, she wouldn't say anything else about this. Whether out of loyalty or fear or common sense, Sabrina wouldn't honestly describe what Chloé was to her in a public setting where said best friend might return at any moment.

 

“I'm just saying, if she gives you trouble, you can come talk to me. I'll be there for you, okay?”

 

Listening to his instinct, Adrien dug through his backpack and scrambled a series of number on the first piece of paper he found. Her eyes widened as she realized what he was doing.

 

“Text me,” he said, then because his mood had lifted, winked. “Don't be a stranger, okay?”

 

\--

 

Of course, it was mostly when things were starting to settle down into a comfortable routine that Adrien nearly got a heart attack.

 

Nathalie, as she welcomed him inside the mansion, had presented him with a tablet within which his father's face was framed and waiting. Adrien tried not to stare in shock. Not that it was a first, but usually, that means of communication was kept for long-distance calls. And, as far as he knew, his father was still in Paris.

 

That he didn't know for sure made his chest cold.

 

“I must ask you something, Adrien,” his father said, and he blinked himself out of his daze.

 

“Yes, Father?”

 

“During the recent monsters attack, where have you been?”

 

Years of instincts and bad manners drilled into his head made it very hard not to gulp like a prisoner before the gallows. _He wants the truth._ A truth that Adrien could very well not give unless he wanted to be grounded for life.

 

It was incredibly hard not to spill the beans right there. Father's eyes cut into him. They had always made him felt that way. He couldn't remember a time they hadn't. How was it fair that they were only ever turned to him when his father suspected something? When he asked for a truth Adrien never felt equipped to give. But the bluebird's eyes told him otherwise this time.

 

“ _Your father prefers grieving in his own time._ ”

 

Beneath the impeccable mask of Gabriel Agreste was still a man with feelings, however deep down they were buried. He didn't actually want the truth. Not the one that Adrien held on the tip of his tongue. For some reason, that made it easier. Almost soothing.

 

“I was mostly with Nathalie or the Gorilla, Father. One time, I was forced to hide alone in the locker's room after fencing practice as the akuma was rampaging near the courtyard. Another time, I was in the bathroom when the akuma came out, so I waited till it passed. Safely out of the way. I called Nathalie while it happened both times, of course.”

 

Secret identities. It was the exception to Juuno's rules. This was just about secret identities. Of course he was not in harm's way! Ladybug and Paon had it under control. Akumas couldn't threaten the best superheroes Paris had ever seen.

 

“Make sure you keep acting this way. Security will be increased around the mansion to account for the akuma attacks. And always tell Nathalie where you are. I want to hear it beforehand if you want to 'hang out' with some of your peers. Understood?”

 

Adrien nodded. He had already planning to ask for permission for hanging out with Nino. Juuno would have had his head otherwise anyway. No, the part that worried him somewhat was the line about 'increased security'. Would there be more people in front of his bathroom's window? Would someone notice Paon Bleu leaving on camera?

 

He hoped his face had not gone pale. “Thank you, Father,” he said, voice faint.

 

His father hummed, his gaze searching, before he gave the slightest sign of agreement. “So far, you seem to have been acting responsibly. You have kept out of harm's way and didn't play hero like some of your classmates like to do.”

 

Adrien's heart skipped a beat. Father couldn't have meant it the way he thought he'd meant it. He couldn't know the identity of Paris' superheroes! His brain scrapped together his memories in search of the most likely explanation. _Alya. He's talking about Alya._ Of course, the Ladyblog must have appeared to be a foolishly dangerous endeavour. And her last outing had ended up with her throwing a brick at the akuma when it got in a good hit on Paon Bleu.

 

“If you promise to act sensibly, then I will continue letting you attend that school for the time being.”

 

“I will, Father! I promise!”

 

“Good. You may go do your homework now. Nathalie, come join me in my office.”

 

He would not go back to being homeschooled! Yes!

 

\--

 

Paon was running across the rooftops, giddy, amazed, and stifling laughter under his breath. In his fist, he held an envelope, and he kept it close to his miraculous, as if wanting to let the paper feel his madly fast heartbeat.

 

Wasn't the world just bigger than ever? Where were the walls that came so close to suffocating him before? Where were all the lingering gazes toward the open night sky that his windows let him glimpse?

 

Gone! Paon leaped over a gap between houses like it was nothing. He landed in a crouch and sprang himself back into another sprint with a laugh. He had no need for wistful thinking or prayers anymore! He was living the dream, fighting the good fight and being so immensely, terrifyingly alive! His joy bubbled up inside, and suddenly was too great to be contained. Paon Bleu whooped and laughed and hollered. Some people paused and looked up to him, just in time to see the tails of his scarf floating behind his neck.

 

Any that called after him, he replied to with a cheerful, “Good day, citizen of Paris!” Public relations were so important for public image. And this was one image he actually cared very much to maintain. More so than the Agreste's reputation.

 

Was that twisted? He didn't think it was that twisted. A model, a superhero, those were fairly different level of responsibilities.

 

And he was currently heading to the top of _Notre-Dame_ to answer the call of that duty.

 

“I love Paris!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.

 

How awesome was it that the people at the balcony he passed cheered loudly, and a grown up woman shouted “Hell yes you do!”

 

Adrien was _so_ gonna buy Juuno blueberry pie with blueberry sauce with a side order of blueberry pancakes! And then he would invest in some blueberry company to become a majority share holder and give free reign to his kwami!

 

“You seem in a good mood today,” Ladybug mused as she saw him touch down near a gargoyle.

 

Ah, he bet that demonic sculpture was prettier than Hawk Moth.

 

“Any day I meet you is a sunnier day than one I don't,” he said, dropping down to one knee.

 

“Flirt.”

 

“I cannot lie. Thus, I won't try to deny it.” Paon shrugged, not at all ashamed. He read the message boards. He read _Alya's_ blog. Near everyone would do the same in his boots. “So, I've written down my schedule like you asked, Princess.”

 

Schedule for patrolling. For more time being a hero instead of a boring little doll in an empty house. Adrien could not have signed up faster.

 

To be fair, neither of them expected to meet akumas during patrol. Hawk Moth seemed more likely to strike during the regular hours of the day as opposed to the evening. It had happened, but even a supervillain had to have a life. With a little luck, they _might_ nip an akuma attack in the bud. However, there were always burglaries and petty crimes to stop. Time to train and become stronger. They had both sworn to protect Paris. They would.

 

“And those are your only available time for patrols, right?”

 

“I'm a busy bird, Princess,” he said, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

 

Ladybug made a noise of disagreement, dismissive of his implied apology. She waved her left hand, the other still holding the sheet firmly. Paon could see her eyes jumping from one part of his timetable to another. Was it recognition in her gaze? “This is fine. I can work around that.”

 

The words came despite his desire. “You know you don't have to.”

 

Well, he would _like_ it if Ladybug patrolled with him, but at the same time… he felt a little guilty having her adjust to his schedule instead of the other way around. But the life of a model could only be stretched around so much. Nathalie definitely checked on him during those times.

 

“Don't worry. I'd like our first few patrols to be together, Paon. But I think after a couple of weeks, we'll be able to do them on our own.”

 

Now he _definitely_ protested. Time to use his killer pout. “Why, Ladybug, don't you want to spend all your time with me?”

 

“If I'm looking to get a headache, yes. So many unnecessary puns, Birdie.”

 

“But my puns help defrost the atmosphere between us! Imagine a world without my puns. So stiff, so rigid. All work, no play makes Paon a dull bird! The future would be so _beak_.”

 

Ladybug glared.

 

“Fine, fine, I'll give it a _nest_.”

 

Ladybug tried to glare harder, but instead let slip a giggle.

 

“Ah! You like them!”

 

A ladybug that was blushing actually matched her suit's color, and that was just the epitome of adorableness. She seemed aware of that fact, as she dared Paon to even comment on it, looking as determined as before any akuma, and for once, wisdom won out.

 

“Just follow me, Birdie,” she said, so striking in the fading light as she jumped over the edge.

 

Paon Bleu could have stared, he could have waited rooted on the spot, forever chasing that image of his princess beckoning him to come after her. He could have, but instead he felt electricity jolting throughout his body, and he was ever so eager to _please_ her.

 

“To the end of the world, Princess!”

 

Paon leaped.

 

\--

 

It wasn't the very edge of the world, the proverbial line in the sand before the fall into the eternal abyss of space. But in Paris, there were no more well-known landmark, and they ended up in the upper levels which were close to everyone but them at this late hour.

 

A week ago, if anyone had told Adrien he would ever sit where he sat, next to whom he sat, he would have cracked a smile, then muttered that he would never be so lucky. But he was.

 

To his amazement, however, he wasn't the one to voice it. “It's starting to settle in, you know? I'm finally getting used to thinking, 'I'm Ladybug. I'm a superheroine on top of the Eiffel Tower.' That's just crazy.”

 

Paon chuckled softly, “I love that kind of crazy.”

 

Adrien had had dreams of flying away from his life as a model. Some of them had involved becoming like Superman. Others had been of the more mundane variety. But now… now he doubted he would ever have that dream again.

 

It seemed straight out of a comic book, with less brooding. Somewhere out there, somewhere down below, amidst the tiny colored dots that busied themselves along the streets, a supervillain laid on the down low for his chance to steal two magical pieces of jewelry. One of which, coincidentally, no one knew where it was.

 

Could it already be in Hawk Moth's possession? Was that why Ladybug had not gotten her fated partner?

 

 _Ladybug…_ He watched her in the corner of his eye. Maybe he was victim of the glamour after all. How else could he explain the difference between her and Marinette? It was fascinating, how is Princess stood straight in the face of danger, with a confidence that outshone anything he had ever seen on a runway. Adrien had seen enough people putting on a model's mask to remember the layers underneath. But it wasn't so with Ladybug. Marinette became Ladybug when she transformed, on every level that mattered, while Paon Bleu was just throwing away every restraint Adrien Agreste felt.

 

“What do you want out of being a superhero?”

 

Ladybug did not flinch, yet on some level, it felt as if she had. The two of them sat side-by-side on the railing, close enough to touch, without doing so. There was something less free in the air, heavier. His princess seemed to seriously consider the question, whereas another might have scoffed, or laughed or ignored him.

 

“Nothing,” she said after a moment. “I think I would be fine not being Ladybug if someone else could do it.”

 

“I'm afraid that's not quite the truth, Princess.”

 

She looked back to him, startled. All Paon could do was shrug and smile with an apology in his eyes.

 

“I see lies and truths, Ladybug. And you might be thinking you want nothing out of being a superhero, that this is really the reason, but it's still a lie.”

 

This time, Ladybug bit her lips. She mulled his words over. They were sinking in, he could see. What did she want out of this? What did it bring to her life? “… Maybe I just want to do some good for Paris. Maybe I want to make sure that the people I love won't be in danger. Maybe I want to be the one to protect them.”

 

“Maybe,” Paon repeated, bemused.

 

“I don't know, Paon. I picked up my miraculous because it was needed. Tikki explained to me how important it was that there is a Ladybug in Paris right now and she picked me.”

 

There was something so sincere in the tone of her voice that Paon nearly did not notice the faint hints of blue gathering around her. And yet, he did not want to believe it to be a lie. His Princess was cutting her heart open for him. Who was he not to believe her?

 

Softly, he asked, “What were you thinking when you decided to come back?”

 

_Were you thinking of me?_

 

Ladybug turned to him, smiled, and his heart jolted in his chest. “That I did not have the right to hide and wallow in self-pity when you were out there.”

 

For a moment, Ladybug stretched her hand toward the outline of Paris' rooftops, as if reaching for the people with her thin, dotted fingers. A glint of emotion passed in her eyes, though one he did not quite recognize. Her fingers curled into a fist, like that invisible thing was in her grasp, and it brought a small smile to her face.

 

Paon realized with a start that he had forgotten to breath. Gasping, he fiddled a bit before trying to play it off, all confidence and wide smiles. “You're so terribly selfless, Ladybug. So much more than little old me.”

 

Ladybug's reply was a quiet, “That's not true.”

 

She truly believed in him then? Paon Bleu, servant and partner. A selfless hero, one that did nothing but fight the good fight despite the odds. Even to himself, the story sounded good. Maybe a version of him that hadn't gotten the Truth as his patron deity would have kept quiet. Wouldn't have wanted to ruin his princess' image of him. But he was Paon, and if there was one person he would never lie to, it was Ladybug. “You don't know me well enough, Princess. I didn't become a superhero because I wanted to save people. Listen to me,” he said, feeling his miraculous hum against his chest, “look into my eyes, Princess. You know I'm telling you the truth. I would still use my miraculous if there was no threat to Paris.”

 

“Then why?”

 

“Freedom,” he said, and something in her the way she looked at him changed. Paon pretended not to notice, putting a hand over his miraculous. Its weight had never felt so reassuring, and distantly, he thought he could hear Juuno's humming. “I'm a free bird when I don the mask. I fly.”

 

Paris. The City of Light. His hometown, and a place to whom Adrien was little more than a stranger. But Paris knew Paon Bleu. All of Paris knew of the bird that flew over its rooftops and that sang his song side by side with a ladybug. Paon Bleu had made his nest in the heart of the city, and he never wanted to become a stranger again.

 

“It's funny, but, to me, being a superhero doesn't feel like it's a whole bundle of responsibility. To me, it is… it is like throwing off the shackles that I've been wearing for years. Like showing up in class with only my batman underwear. Weird. Strange. Ultimately pretty fun. Not anything like what you'd expect out of a superhero, right?”

 

“Paon. You're my partner,” she insisted.

 

Paon's eyes watered, but he did not lose the smile. “I guess it shows why you're the leader and I'm just the sidekick. Our priorities are a bit different. I love the feeling of soaring through the air, Princess. I love feeling the wind on my face. I love having the right to jump and laugh and fight however much I want with no one looking over my shoulder. It's a self-serving reason, but so long as I get that, I will keep going.”

 

Ladybug grabbed his hand. “Even if you didn't, you wouldn't stop. You were the one that kept fighting Stoneheart, Paon. I gave up before you. Never forget that.”

 

“I'll never forget you coming back to save me from a very painful meeting with a wall.” He saluted. “I promise you that.”

 

“This is not what you meant.”

 

Paon's reply was but a whisper, “But that's what it meant to me.” Then, with a bit more strength, “Even if you thought you were inadequate – which was a lie, by the way –, you still came back when I asked, and the first thing you did was help me out.”

 

“Of course I would help you,” she muttered as if annoyed. “You're just so…” She gestured helplessly toward his general person. “You.”

 

It took a grand total of six seconds. Then, Paon started snickering, and rolled down on his back. “Princess. How could I be anything but myself? I'm the Peacock. I can't be anything but myself with this mask on.”

 

Paon's fingers lingered just over the trim of his mask, as if hesitant to touch it. Some part of him feared that he would try taking it off, that he would somehow touch Adrien Agreste underneath. Would she know? Without the glamour, would Ladybug be able to piece together the secret of Paon Bleu's identity? He said he was acting most like himself, but… maybe she did not want to see him that way. Marinette seemed willing to apologize to Adrien, after he had proven the worth of his words, but _liking_ him? That was a different story.

 

So different, in fact, that he could not help look back at his princess, who did not seem spectacularly offended. Rather, she seemed content, waiting for the sun to finally set over the horizon, with red-streaks of light basking her figure. There was an unspoken agreement between them. Something so solid.

 

She trusted him. And his face turned red at the thought of his febrile questions to Juuno. _She doesn't want you to know._ “Ladybug… about our identities, I –”

 

He said no more, for he could no longer speak, not intelligibly at least.

 

“I know. You're Paon Bleu. You serve the Truth. But I'm not ready to do that. I'm not quite as strong as you. I can't tell you now.”

 

He muffled a protest against her glove. She did not know. Or she did not believe. But her outline was flickered by dots of dark blue. Paon was overwhelmed then by the desire to show her. To give up his sight so she'd realize that there was _nothing_ weak about Ladybug!

 

And he hadn't been about to ask about the masks! Even if it made his heartbeat quicken and his face flush, that did not mean he would have pushed! Okay, maybe a little, but never that much. If Marinette knew that he saw her as this incredible girl regardless, she would understand why he hated the lie she told herself.

 

But it would break something between them. Ladybug needed that distance. She needed to think of them as the masks first. Paon though could not think of her as anyone else. He just felt it in his guts.

 

Was it a lie then? His miraculous was giving off an odd cool feeling against his chest. For once, Paon Bleu really wanted to hear Juuno's preaching. At least he'd know. He wouldn't be there, lying on his back, terrified of the moment Ladybug would allow him to speak again.

 

Ladybug's lips trembled as she smiled, her voice hitched up. “One day…”

 

His heart skipped a beat. _Oh no._

 

“Not today, but one day, I will show you who I am beneath the mask.” And that promise triggered a flurry of light turquoise.

 

Paon tried not to feel guilty.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A copycat… I swear, there is a pun in there somewhere, but I can't quite put my tongue on it.”
> 
> “Cat got your tongue?” Adrien's voice asked him.

On his top ten lists of things to do as a superhero, getting a statue in his honor ranked at a modest eight. It would be a lie to deny that recognition helped him get up from his seat and face the akumas when his day had been already painful enough. He would have stood regardless, but it was pleasant enough. People saw. People saw and liked him enough to tell him.

 

So, Paon Bleu did everything in his power to give every journalist and visitor in the park a taste of his people's skills. He had been trained as a model and an Agreste to always be photogenic, to always be approachable, _friendly._

 

“My turn, Paon! My turn!” squealed a little girl that couldn't be older than four.

 

“But, little princess, I can't do this without help from the magic word!”

 

The way her nose scrunched up and squished her freckles together downright made his heart melt. “Is it… please?”

 

“That's the one!” Paon cheered, putting on as big as show as he could.

 

The kids, he picked up and swirled around when they asked; the adults, he greeted and shook their hands and signed with an elegant, fancy cursive. The love he received from the citizens, Adrien returned with every smile he could show. The people of Paris would cheer for Ladybug wild and loud, he recalled telling her.

 

Getting the same treatment let him experience a warmth not unlike his first breath in a public school.

 

“There you go, my little princess. Now, go see your mother, and promise to listen to her well.”

 

The girl smiled, showing the wide gape between a fallen baby tooth, and pinkie swore.

 

Only the paranoid feeling that his father would somehow know prevented Adrien from crying tears of joy in the middle of the park. There, his training served him very well. And only twice had he sounded anything less than pure cheer and good fun. This was the unveiling of a statue in his and Ladybug's honor, after all.

 

Its creator, on the other hand, looked around the park nervously. Since the appointed time had passed, the man had not stopped checking up his watch. His eyes searched the crowd, then darted back to him, and the question finally sprung from his lips.

 

“Are you the only one coming today?”

 

“Yeah,” he replied without thinking, tone light. “Ladybug is busy with her civilian life and can't make it.”

 

“Oh…” whispered the man.

 

He was not offended. Not too much, at least. The general sentiment of the people of Paris was that he was more sidekick material than superhero. That did make him grit his teeth a bit, but Adrien agreed that Ladybug was the more impressive of the two.

 

Besides, as he was being shown in this very park, they loved him anyway. Adrien had had a lifetime's worth of publicity already, he could let someone else have a turn.

 

“I was just hoping to see Ladybug.” The artist chuckled awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I wanted her opinion on my work, and hopefully…”

 

To his great regrets, being Paon Bleu didn't make him more clever.  In fact, it might make him a bit too reliant on his lie-detector abilities.  He had yet to learn how it could fail him.  Such as not reading  between the lines  for him . 

 

“Well, I'm here if that works for you. I mean, I'm no art critic, but I promise to be absolutely, completely, one hundred percent honest. Hero's honor.”

 

“No, it's, well,” – the older guy blushed and looked away – “I'm in love with her, and wanted to confess.”

 

“Oh.”

 

The muscles in his jaw tightened. It… it was harmless, of course. There was no reason to be annoyed.

 

But he was. He really, really was. That guy was what, twenty? Twenty-two? A bit older maybe? Ladybug had to be about the same age as Adrien. Fifteen. Sixteen, if you were generous – or didn't know Marinette Dupain-Cheng's birthday. Sure, the glamours obscured that bit, but that didn't stop Adrien's skin from feeling like there were bugs crawling underneath.

 

_I'm not jealous, I'm not jealous, I'm not jealous. It's just a bit creepy and the guy can't know about her age, so it's just a natural if unpleasant outcome to Ladybug being such an amazing superheroine. Now, all I have to do is not encourage him without giving away her age._

 

“Well, I'm a bit sorry to say, but…” The words were already spilling out of him, and he leaned in as if to whisper a secret. “Ladybug doesn't date civilians. It's a superhero thing.”

 

Something pricked at the back of his head, hard, and he could almost imagine Juuno scowling at him.

 

Truth mixed with another technical truth to get the effect of a lie. While transformed too. He could bet his sweet, model-worthy butt that the headache would stay until tomorrow, at the very least. Didn't matter that he was just trying to make things easier for everyone.

 

In fact, Juuno was more of a 'fact above everything' kind of guy than a 'good intentions matter' person.

 

…Paon had had good intentions. For real.

 

\--

 

Paon Bleu had had good intentions, and somehow, that translated to a picture of him defacing a monument.

 

Once they had seen the news, Juuno had cleared his throat, glaring behind his blueberries, and Adrien had gotten the message.

 

“Okay. I was jealous and I twisted the truth a bit to make sure that guy wouldn't try confessing to a fifteen years old and _nobly prevented him from going to jail for suspicions of pedophilia!_ ”

 

A blueberry hit him between the eyes.

 

“Juunooooo,” he whined, “my kwami, my friend, it was not okay! I had to say something! I couldn't just tell him Ladybug is underage!”

 

A second blueberry struck him in the right eye.

 

“Ow!” he cried out, covering his injury with his hand. “Juuno!”

 

The kwami floated up to him, looking every bit as disappointed as his father on a bad day. “It was not your place to tell that truth! Ladybug should have been the one to decide. That man wasn't ready to hear it and even less so from a man he is jealous of in the first place! Look at what you did!”

 

_Look_ , repeated a guilty little voice in the back of his head.  _Look_ . And Adrien did look back to the video, he took in the sight of Paon Bleu cheerfully kicking off  the head of a statue while making a pun about the park's guardian 'losing his head'.  The akuma laughed and threw the man into the fountain and loudly repeated how a bird needed to stretch his wings once in a while.  He looked until the image of a villainous Paon Bleu cackling had been carved into his brain.

 

He had done this. He, Adrien Agreste, as Paon Bleu, had caused a man to be akumatized.

 

Wow. He felt smaller than a blueberry. That wasn't what a hero did. Ladybug would be disgusted with him. Adrien certainly felt so.

 

With shaking fingers, he scrolled down his cellphone's screen, beneath the video.

 

The part that hurt the most was people actually believing that he would do that. Surely the number of times he had saved lives would count for something? No? No one willing to place a bet on the supervillain that hated Paon's guts and could, amongst other things, get people to shapeshift or mindcontrol his victims?

 

No, of course not. Well, he had just done something very stupid and very mean, but the rest mattered as well, didn't it?

 

“Juuno… I'm sorry.”

 

“I forgive you,” was his reply. “It finally got through your thick head that you misused your role as a superhero.”

 

There was no fighting the blush on his face. So, he changed tactics. “Juuno, why are so many people convinced I would do this? Like, I get that there's a video, but Paris is under assault by an actual supervillain. And _I_ have already stopped plenty of akumas with Ladybug already!”

 

“People's skepticism is a powerful thing, Adrien. They will always believe their own experience first. Some will never accept anything else despite evidence staring them in the face. Sometimes, what people want to see will eclipse the Truth.”

 

Father wanted to believe that Adrien stayed safe despite the akuma attacks. Adrien had taken the Blue Peacock's miraculous from his father's vault, and still he was not suspected of the crime. The glamour accounted for something. But only so far as obscuring people's perception. If Paon Bleu shouted he was a teenager, then people would notice it.

 

“Okay… okay, I think I get it. People believe what they want to believe.”

 

Juuno gave a slow nod. “It is why there is a Fox miraculous. They'll sooner believe the lie than the truth, and in the end, miraculous holders do what is needed to guide and protect.”

 

Adrien winced. He hadn't done a whole lot of protecting with that last stunt. Sighing, he slapped both his cheeks and stood up. “Alright. There's an akuma on the loose. We need to stop him. _I_ need to be the one to stop him. I need to apologize to Paris for my mistake.”

 

“Good, but Adrien, remember. Just like you shouldn't blame victims for being akumatized, the blame lies on the one that exploits them. You were the catalyst, but it still wouldn't have happened without someone taking advantage of it..”

 

“Right. It's Hawk Moth's fault, isn't it?”

 

“ **It** **is,** ” the words reverberated on the walls of his bedroom with a sinister echo.

 

Adrien shuddered. Juuno was not acting at all like himself. There seemed to be a ripple in the air, a shift, something so different about the kwami now, and it sent alarm bells ringing all over his head.

 

“Juuno. I did something wrong and I am sorry. I want to make it right.”

 

The kwami of Truth nodded.

 

Adrien took it as assent, at least that he was on the right track, even if he was starting to be unnerved by Juuno's solemn attitude. “Best way to get people to realize it is to show them two Paons at the same time.”

 

“People on Twitter are mentioning Paon near the Louvre. It is not positive.”

 

He frowned. “Wings out!”

 

\--

 

So far, the imposter proved himself to be singularly frustrating to catch.

 

Paon Bleu had never realized it before, but the akumas that announced their goals loud and clear were actually easy picking. With his Princess' help. At least, they were fairly straightforward. This one… this akuma just played hard to get, jumping around Paris to deface as many pieces of art as possible.

 

Paon had felt singularly unnerved by the Ladybug graffiti sprayed over the walls of the Louvre. Wasn't the man an artist? Shouldn't he at least _hesitate_ before destroying pieces of art all over the town? Or perhaps that was the whole point. Ladybug hadn't come to his unveiling of the statue. The one he wanted most to enjoy his art didn't show, so now no one would. It made a surprising amount of sense, if you were petty.

 

And this akuma _was_. It took special care to trash Paon's reputation in the worst ways, in all the smallest details. Paon had had to help a little old lady get down from a rooftop that the imposter had abandoned her on after offering to help her cross the street!

 

He really wanted to get his hands on the guy. Punch a bit. Kick a bit. Between the legs. He just needed to find him.

 

It wasn't like he could stop and ask random people in the street if they had seen him – well, he had tried, ever the optimist, with disappointing results. After the third tomato thrown at his head by an angry seller, Paon had quite clearly gotten the message. He was on his own for that one.

 

It did not stop him from telling people the truth however.

 

“It's a copycat! Don't be fooled!”

 

“I swear!”

 

“There's an akuma on the loose!”

 

If even one person responded with something other than 'you're going for the evil twin defense' or its variation, then Adrien would personally offer to model for an underwear line. And Adrien had never, in his entire life, wanted to model an underwear line. He felt like he had reached that low now.

 

The weight of his futile chase hit him all at once. Paon Bleu dropped down, sitting with his back against the wall, and contemplating but the newest mural to have decorated the walls of Paris. In big, bright blue letters, someone had tagged over the announcement for the newest children's foundation:

 

_Paon was here_ . 

 

And because that akuma was determined to defile everything Adrien ever liked, it had also drawn a cat emoji.

 

“A copycat… I swear, there is a pun in there somewhere, but I can't quite put my tongue on it.”

 

“Cat got your tongue?” Adrien's voice asked him.

 

“No, that's a good one, but not–”

 

Slowly, he turned his head in direction of the voice, as baffled as his Princess.

 

Adrien blinked at the smirking Paon Bleu next to him.

 

The Imposter. The fake. The copycat that ran around Paris making a pest out of itself from sheer spite. The reason people flinched at the sight of him. A lie taking the shape of the blue peacock.

 

Heat spiked in his chest, an uncomfortable fiery heat that demanded blood in angered cries. Paon Bleu's head swam, his mind muddled, no, overwhelmed by a torrent of rage. And at the very center of that pulse of power was the brooch on his chest, blazing red.

 

Juuno wasn't just ticked off anymore, he was _pissed._ Paon Bleu found himself snarling, a roar rising in his chest and his fingers itching to just rip the imposter to pieces. The words were pushing themselves at the front of his mind. _How dare he? HOW DARE HE?!_

 

Paon Bleu's fist hit the wall inches where the villain's damnable smirk had been. Cracks spread over the wall of solid concrete. Chunks of it crumbled and fell to the ground, shards remained stuck on the knuckles of his gloves.

 

For the first time, the fake's sly demeanor slipped a little, lines of tension digging through the man's muscles. With a quick, sharp gesture, he wiped the sweat from his brow, struggling to put back his appearance of control. “Wow, that nearly hit my head. And you're supposed to be a hero?”

 

Later, when the dust had settled and cooler heads prevailed, Adrien would say that it wasn't so much the words that did the trick as it was the sudden flash of turquoise in a sea of red. Like a hook that had yanked him to the surface.

 

“And what are you supposed to be?” he asked through gritted teeth.

 

His miraculous still felt like burning cinders digging into his flesh, but in itself, that did not give it a right over Adrien's mind. No matter how much it felt like it, emotions did not carry his limbs. His mind gave the order. It was always him in control.

 

“Why,” the Imposter said, spreading his arms wide, “I'm you. I thought that was fairly obvious.”

 

“Actually, you're stupidly bad at acting like me,” Paon growled, crouching low, just ready to spring into action again. “I would never do what you did.”

 

“Funny!” the Imposter drawled with a smirk that was anything but. “I thought that was tomatoes and pebbles I saw dripping on your suit! But I guess I'm just too dumb. What do you expect of Paon Bleu?”

 

Paon's fist was dodged. Barely. “You can always just fight back against Hawk Moth if it bothers you this much.”

 

“Ladybug doesn't date civilians. Isn't that what you said? Well, there can only be one other hero in Paris! By the end of today, it'll be me!”

 

“Ladybug doesn't want to endanger any innocent! She doesn't want to paint a target on anyone's back!” he cried out, willing the man to just understand. “It's just the jealousy talking!” _It is. It was._ “What do you think ruining my reputation will actually do for you? If you're going to be my copy, then Ladybug's going to be just as pissed with you as she would be with me!”

 

“Please, it wasn't my choice to be like you,” the akuma said in so snide a tone that it belied his unfocused eyes. “It's just that there are only two heros in Paris, and I want the heart of the other one. I mean, who would want to _be_ Paon Bleu? You can't even do anything useful. You're just a bumbling cheerleader that keeps messing around Ladybug, thinking that makes you a hero. I would have picked anyone else!”

 

Paon stumbled and missed his next jump. With a squawk, he threw himself back on the roof, his arms flailing and his glare fixed on the laughing copy.

 

“Dude…” he called with a slow voice. “You realized I can tell when you lie, right?”

 

The fake Paon snarled. “Yes! I know, you never shut up about it!”

 

“Well, guess what?”

 

It felt immensely satisfying to sink his fist in the imposter's face.

 

“You lied. I'm not useless. In fact, I'm plenty talon-tuous. I'm always at my Princess' sides, giving my support and doing whatever I can to help save the day. If you think that makes me useless, then you are a damned idiot!”

 

“You don't have any special power! It's always Ladybug that saves the day! You're a leech!”

 

“So, why would she go out with a copy of me?”

 

The akuma sputtered, his face flushed bright red. 

 

Paon Bleu snickered. He knew what the akuma wanted to do, but it wouldn't work. On Adrien, as he had been before, that tactic would have been devastating. But his heart felt light, and the weight of his miraculous was akin to a hand on his shoulder and a gentle voice in his ear. Juuno's, telling him, again and again, that Adrien was not a waste of space. That he mattered. That he was not a toy to be placed and misplaced by the adults around him. Every time Paon Bleu saw through the Imposter's lie, he remembered Juuno's support.

 

His kwami was there for him. Rain or shine. Whether he was a good kid or he did something as stupid as causing someone's akumatization (though he wasn't as patient then). The brooch's warmth hugged his chest, right over his heart, and pulsing as steadily as his heartbeat, it seemed to say: _I'm here, Adrien. Don't listen to him._

 

Paon's fingers squeezed around the Imposter's arms and, with one wild swing, he threw the man over his head, straight in the middle of the studio they had ended up in front of.

 

It was so easy to fight back lies now. But, ah, the Truth, on the other hand… “You know, if you actually do what Hawk Moth tells you to, there won't _be_ a Ladybug anymore, right?”

 

The Imposter froze in the middle of standing up, eyes white and face ashen.

 

“I… I will just… She'll be able to stay with me, safe!”

 

“Safe from whom? Hawk Moth?”

 

The akuma lost its footing, its eyes widening and its jaw falling. The web of blue over its body convulsed, shaken by Paon's words. The fake brooch seemed to quiver, and sparks of green fizzled with violence over its surface. Clenching and unclenching his fists, the Imposter stuttered, eyes glazed over. Just as Paon thought the words might have actually broken the spell, a mask of purple light surged in front of the Imposter's face, blinding, brazing. Paon could not even see the akuma's eyes anymore. Only an outline of the butterfly's power.

 

“FROM YOU!” The Imposter roared, and barreled into him with the strength of a rampaging bull. “YOU! IT'S YOU! YOU! YOU!”

 

They fell together on the ground, the impact emptying Paon's lungs, and the Imposter's hands reaching for his throat. Paon tried to fight back, but the madman's strength seemed to have tripled from sheer rage, and all he could see was the butterfly's mask peering down on him with its eerie purple glow.

 

The fingers abruptly loosened and grasped his shoulders instead.

 

Blinking stars out of his sight, Paon did not understand, until he heard the sound of a pair of feet hitting the ground and a beautiful voice calling his name. The pinned superhero rolled his head back just enough to catch a glimpse of red and black above his neon blue hair.

 

Talk about timing. He could really use a hand there.

 

“Ladybug!” shouted the fake over him, “I've captured the Imposter!”

 

For a moment, a sharp smile tugged at Ladybug's lips. “ _Bien joué._ ”

 

Right. Some people did not have a built-in lie-detector in their suits. And right now, he thoroughly wished that his princess did.

 

“Aw, come _on_!” he whined in the most childish manner possible. “I know you can't automatically detect lies, but still!”

 

The sense of confidence that had emanated from Ladybug vanished, as she suddenly eyed the both of them with renewed uncertainty. Now, her gaze examined them, narrowed at the smallest details on their disheveled appearances.

 

The Imposter pushed stronger against Adrien's chest. “You know me, Ladybug! And I know you too. You're the most amazing woman I've ever met. A sun in the sky of Paris that gives hope to the people suffering because of Hawk Moth's malice! You're quick-witted and strong and determined and… and perfect!”

 

The sad part was, he could tell how Ladybug's eyes flashed with familiarity. Paon had said those things before. He had called her the sun of his life or the moon of his nights, or something equally poetic. Perhaps not with those exact words, but the sentiment had been similar to the Imposter's words.

 

But not the same.

 

“Geez, Princess,” Paon Bleu drawled. “Are you really falling for flattery of all things? And you claim to hate my flirting?”

 

“How dare you?!” The Imposter bellowed, spittle flying. “She _is_ everything I said and far more.  Only a fake would say that. She's perfect!”

 

His rage clouded his eyes. They were wild, a shade of emerald that glinted in the light with malevolence. It was a vision of himself at his worst. And truly, Paon could do without.

 

His boot dug into the Imposter's ribs and pushed him off.

 

“She's not! My Princess is a lot of things, but she's not perfect. Far from it! She doesn't always listen to me even knowing I'm under magical duress to tell the truth! She's stubborn, she has no appreciation for my puns, she can be judgmental and self-righteous!”

 

The Imposter roared and jumped, his hands grasping for Paon's throat. They rolled on the floor, punches and kicks flying between them, but despite the pain and bruises he was getting, Paon kept talking.

 

“I like her in spite of her flaws, not because she doesn't have any! Ladybug can be as brave as she is afraid. As determined as she is hesitant. She started this with no self-confidence at all, and look at her now! A shining beacon for Paris! I love her, but don't say she's perfect! There's no such thing!”

 

He kicked the Imposter's legs from under him. He was looming over the akuma, gloves closed over wrists that were identical to his.

 

“And that's fine! It's always been fine. We're in this together. We can cover each other's flaws, not pretend they don't exist. I'm a hot head that never plans and never thinks ahead. I take a lot of risks. I would love to actually have a spell, any spell at all so I can feel more useful, but that's just how it is.”

 

The Imposter's face twisted into a mask of rage. “Paon Bleu does not deserve to stand on the same level as Ladybug! She is my leader! She'd be better off without me!”

 

“Ladybug is the best partner I can ask for. We are much better heroes together.”

 

A _beautiful_ red and black yo-yo zipped through the air and tied up the Imposter's wrists together.

 

“Ladybug! No!” the guy cried out, his voice breaking. “I can… I can be a better partner to you than Paon Bleu ever will be! Please! I love you!”

 

Paon stilled, cold sweat suddenly dripping down the back of his neck. It hadn't been him. He knew it hadn't been him saying those words, but they flashed to the front of his mind. They had been said with his voice. With his face and his heart hanging on the line. To Ladybug. To his dear partner, his classmate, his friend.

 

And there was something in the whitening of her face, in the lines of tension that dug around her lips, that scared him to death.

 

“Enough.” Ladybug snapped the fake brooch in half. Was it his imagination or had her fingers been shaking? A trick of the light. Surely.

 

The yo-yo snatched the butterfly with a whiplash, Ladybug's usual one-liner forgotten this time.

 

When she turned to him, he forgot how to breath.

 

“So I'm stubborn, self-righteous and with a bad sense of humor?”

 

Adrien sputtered and begged Juuno to let him go for a little, teensy bitsy white lie. The brooch on his chest beeped loudly instead.  _ Traitor. _

 

“Okay, so I might have, but I also said you were full of great qualities and that I loved you anyway.”

 

_That I love you. That I will always be there for you. I swore._

 

“Thank you, Paon.” Her gloved hand briefly lingered on his cheek. “Never stop telling me the truth, okay? I need you to ground me and keep me from getting all self-righteous and arrogant.”

 

Paon's heart skipped a beat. Ladybug said she needed him.  _ Someone _ needed Adrien Agreste in their life as more than just a prop! Oh boy, he needed to get his pulse under control and stop shaking like a leaf.  _ Keep it cool, Adrien. Your Princess is watching. _

 

He took a few steps around the art studio, twirling one of his scarves around his finger. “ Now, all that's left is to go explain that it was an akuma impersonating me. ”  Paon groaned. “How much do you bet that people won't buy it and say I'm a liar after all?”

 

He did not understand why his Princess suddenly looked like the cat that had eaten the proverbial chick.

 

“It just so happened that I planned ahead, Birdie,” she taunted, one hand proudly picking up a phone that had had the video function on. “I couldn't let an akuma sully my partner's reputation, now could I?”

 

“Princess! You do care!”

 

She lightly smacked his shoulder, and they laughed together.

 

\--

 

Elation was the farthest thing on his mind when he returned home.  It left him as soon as the transformation ended.

 

“Of all the lies, of all the rotten, disgusting, stinking **LIES**! ”

 

The walls  of his room trembled, his book shelves gave winces and his window's cried as the shout distorted in the air.  Air rippled around the tiny blue god, as it would under a raging bonfire. The comparison did nothing to ease Adrien's mind. 

 

For once, Juuno's temper tantrums weren't  _ funny _ . 

 

“How dare he? How dare he?!”

 

A vase on  a shelf exploded, and Adrien very much  turned into damage control mode.

 

Five-star blueberries delicacies (the cooks were getting a bit suspicious about his growing craving for blueberries), make-up, a little brush to untangle Juuno's feathers, a woman's voice spouting opera lines on the radio. Adrien unleashed every trick in his kwami care package in the hopes that his room would still be standing by the end of it. 

 

It took more or less thirty minutes to get the tiny god to calm down enough to stop screaming.

 

But once he stopped, the kwami fell into a reflective silence. He avoided his chosen's eyes, floated away when the two were closer, as if embarrassed.

 

“Hey, Juuno?” Adrien called. 

 

The blue kwami look away from the make-up mirror that Adrien had gotten him and turned around with a curious  but cautious hum. 

 

“Well, you mentioned that not all peacocks choose to be heroes.” Adrien tried to appear more casual than he felt, not realizing that it was doomed to failure from the start with Juuno as his kwami. “It's… I got a bit curious.”

 

Juuno looked at him knowingly. “ You want to know if any of them became villains. ”

 

“Y-yeah… it's been eating at me since we faced the copycat. It was like looking in those distorted mirrors. The guy had my face. It felt like it could have been me, being selfish and just taking what I wanted without any consideration for anyone else.”

 

A crossed look settled on Juuno's face, and Adrien reached for the emergency blueberry stack he hid just in case.

 

It wasn't needed, as the little god sighed and floated closer to Adrien. “The Imposter was a mockery made by your enemy. Don't forget that. And… regardless of today's… **fake…** Yes. I would rather not talk about her, but one of my chosen used my miraculous for wrongdoing. It has happened before.”

 

Adrien tried not to feel for the brooch in his pocket.

 

Juuno's eyes followed his thoughts anyway. “She was an exception though. Being a criminal and lying often go hand in hand. Quite a few of my chicks went into fortune-telling.”

 

Adrien's body went still. “ I could do that? ”

 

“If someone asked you where their lost relatives are, and you were transformed, chances are you would be able to give them a truthful answer. It depends on how well-attuned you are with my powers.”

 

“… That's what the one that became a villain did, right?”

 

Juuno nodded stiffly. His tail feathers ruffled, and for some reason, Adrien felt like backing away from the tiny god. “They did. That and more. Words can _break_ people, Adrien. Some people live lies. And the Truth destroys that.”

 

Maybe he should try orienting this discussion toward less dangerous waters. “What of the others?”

 

Juuno chuckled. Just like that, the gravity that had seemed to turn Adrien's limbs to lead evaporated. The little peacock spirit twirled in the air. “ Others simply found themselves dazzling jobs. Why, one of my little chicks was one of those feathery girls in th at American city… oh, yes, Las Vegas. ”

 

He stared at the ridiculous hip movements Juuno performed.

 

“Someone used the miraculous as a dance costume?”

 

Juuno's reply was short but quite meaningful. “ It made her happy. ”

 

“… What about me? Was becoming a superhero the right choice?” He had gotten someone akumatized through a petty, knee-jerk reaction. “Should I have become something else?”

 

“Don't you love helping people? Does your heart not flutter every time you help up a poor akuma victim? What of Ladybug? Do you not want to stay with her? The right choice is the one that you choose. You only need to be true to yourself, Adrien.” Juuno patted Adrien's cheeks before flying up to his head and soothingly straightened his hair. “It's what every human needs to reach true happiness. And I want that for you, little chick.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was something incredibly childish about the way his little friend and mentor would coo at the pretty colours. “Adrien, these decorations are glistening!”
> 
> “It's just wrapping paper, Juuno,” Adrien shrugged, bemused by the kwami's following squawk of indignation.

Adrien looked away with a sigh, then thanked Nathalie for her effort.

 

It wasn't that he was surprised, but maybe he had been too hopeful. Earlier, Nino had reacted with such dismay at the thought that yes, Adrien's father might actually be too busy. And that if he were, then he should at least let someone else throw his son a party.

 

“I'm sorry, Adrien,” Nathalie told him, her voice slightly less empty than usual.

 

“It's –” _okay._ _Nope. It isn't._ “I am not surprised… I'm just going to spend some time with my friend instead. I don't have anything on my schedule this afternoon, right?”

 

After getting that confirmation, he had turned around and dragged Nino with him through the front door. A little selfish part of him was glad that his father and his friend hadn't met. He could not imagine that going well.

 

Once they had stepped through the front door, Nino managed to get away and turned to him with a baffled look. “Dude, are you serious? He won't even see us? Not even you?”

 

It had happened plenty of time, but seeing someone legitimately concerned about it brought a bitter taste to his mouth. _Model smile, Adrien. Don't complain to Father, it never changes anything._ “Nathalie said he was too busy. It happens.”

 

“It's your birthday, Adrien! When is he going to see you?”

 

In his pocket, he felt the press of Juuno's arms, and he knew the kwami wondered the same thing. “I dunno. But what can we do about it?”

 

\--

 

Apparently, the answer had been 'get turned into an akuma'. Adrien had been both touched and guilty that Nino had cared enough about him to get akumatized on his behalf.

 

He was earning a year in hell for this, but he had not been able to resist trying to enjoy the party before it was over. There were people dancing in the middle of his courtyard or hanging around by the food table or just having fun all around. It was so very close to what he had seen in movies.

 

Adrien walked through the crowd, grinning just a bit, bobbing his head to the rhythm of the music. Nino had chosen all of Adrien's favourites for his remixes. Little details like that really made him yearn for a bit more (just a minute, or two).

 

“This is a ni–” he choked on the ' _nice party_ ' he meant to say, and he fought the surge of guilt that was threatening to rise inside him. “Erm, huh, are you having fun?”

 

The girl he had accosted gave him a blank look in return, and a grunt that could be taken as an affirmative.

 

His tentative smile slid off his face. He wasn't surprised, but a long buried part of him deflated at the sight. It wouldn't be this year either. Not at the rhythm things were going. _This is my first ever birthday party, thrown by my best friend. It's... I should have the right to enjoy it even a little, shouldn't I?_

 

Tiny teeth clamped down on his left thumb.

 

Yelping, Adrien looked at his hand and glared at the kwami in his pocket. “What was that for?” he growled under his breath. Tiny bite marks now stood in red against his usually perfect skin.

 

“Paon Bleu does not fall for lies. _You_ do not fall for lies.”

 

The same childish part of him further cracked and broke.

 

“I… I know, but it's my first birthday party ever. Father never let me have one before!”

 

“And this one is thrown by an akuma. Your friend.”

 

It was like Juuno had slapped him. An akuma, his friend. Blinking, he turned his widening green eyes to the DJ table. Someone had loudly declared that this party stank and he wouldn't keep pretending otherwise for a deranged clown's sake. At the very moment Adrien looked, the Bubbler grabbed his weapon and trapped the protesting teenager into one of his bubbles.

 

The teen floated up in the air, screaming and hitting his bubble all the while.

 

Adrien swore. Not once, not twice, but a good long string of swear words he would never have dared say in anyone else's presence for fear of it somehow getting back to his father. But right now? It wasn't even enough to express of much of a blind moron he was being.

 

Nino had been akumatized! Why wasn't he already in costume and trying to bring Ladybug's attention to this?! How could he have let this go on any longer?!

 

Adrien bolted for the hedge surrounding the courtyard and leaped over the plants.

 

He only stopped the curses long enough to say, “Wings Out!”

 

As Paon Bleu, his first glimpse of the party was a sickening sea of dark blue. Teenagers dancing weakly, pushing fake happiness to the front, shielding the few hyperventilating from the Bubbler's sight. Disgust threatened to make Paon sick. Juuno was right. So, damnably, freaking right! Even if that was the first birthday party he could get, any self-respecting human being would not want it!

 

So he crouched and crawled behind the edge until he was closer to the mansion. From there, he could probably try to take the Bubbler by surprise. Sweat beading beneath his mask, Paon glanced to the bubble carrying the latest of the Bubbler's victim. Its pale green color was growing fainter against the canvas of today's clear sky.

 

He might only have one shot at this. It depended on how resistant the akuma's bubbles were, and how high up in the air he was before he could manage to pop it.

 

Argh! This would be so much easier if Ladybug was with him!

 

...Wait, where _was_ Ladybug? It wasn't as if Marinette qualified as an adult, so she wouldn't have been caught up in the Bubbler's first sweep of the city. Had… had she been at his party, unable to transform? No… no, the last one looked like it had been the first time someone broke from the Bubbler's rules.

 

If she wasn't though, that probably meant she had been somewhere else in the city and had just saw adults everywhere get snagged by the bubbles. Had… had she seen her parents get taken? Was she running around Paris, frantically looking for a sign of an aggressive akuma rampaging. Paon shot another look to the party goers. What did it look like from afar? Nothing more than a bunch of irresponsible teens celebrating a moment without adults? Would Ladybug notice? Should he try and find his princess first?

 

As he was weighting his options, a red and black yo-yo zipped through the air and struck the Bubbler's weapon out of his hand.

 

Paon's heart fluttered with relief. There she was! With one leap, he joined her, ready to face Nino's shadow. The look the akuma sent them was one of rage and greed. Nothing like he had ever seen on his best friend's place, nothing more than a net of blue threads moved to a puppeteer's whims.

 

“You two are going to give me Ladybug's miraculous and leave my best bud's party! He deserves it! You hear me?!”

 

Wow. He might actually run to his room and get a happy cry going after this was all said and done. Nino might just be the best friend ever.

 

More reasons to get his head out of his powdered and pampered model butt and de-evilize his best friend. Really, it was a sham that it wasn't already over.

 

Ladybug's yo-yo spun in front of them, its pink light tracing the edge of the shield on which the bubbles crashed and popped.

 

“You know, Ladybug…” Paon said calmly despite the spike of adrenaline. “Is he the first person to be akumatized on behalf of someone else?”

 

Ladybug's movement jerked, but she got it back under control on the spot. _My bad!_ “I… I wasn't thinking about that, but you're right.”

 

Paon crouched low. “Good. I just wanted the confirmation.”

 

Now, he had an idea, but it could really go one way or another. Honestly, he did not put much faith in it, but something deep down told him he had to at least try. 

 

“Get ready,” he whispered to Ladybug, then inhaled deeply. “Adrien loves his father, Nino! He doesn't want this!”

 

The Bubbler's furious assault suddenly died down, blue face turning to a pale shade of green. Beneath, the akuma's spell quivered furiously, but Paon Bleu realized his words had not struck right on target. The flickers of light green hadn't lingered. This was different.

 

But good. Ladybug took advantage of the pause and struck at the Bubbler.

 

With a snarl, the akuma jumped aside. With a swing of his weapon, more bubbles came, but fluttering, wildly missing or crashing into the ground before ever reaching them.

 

“Keep it up, Birdie!” Ladybug called while she popped another bubble with her yo-yo. “He's faltering!”

 

Oh, but he intended nothing more. This cruelty. The fear that clung to his classmates. The pain at the sight of the stream of bubbles far up in the sky. How could he let that happen on his behalf?

 

“Shut up!” the Bubbler shouted. “Shut up! His father doesn't deserve his love!”

 

The heroes' hearts sunk at the sigh of the purple mask. Though the akuma gritted his teeth, he suddenly swung faster. His weapon hummed, a sound that screeched over the techno remixes still playing. And out rocketed a blazing red bubble. Angry, raging. Sizzling hot, the rock hissing as it hovered just overhead. That bubble, Ladybug and Paon dodged. In the corner of their eyes, they saw the stairs to his home get blown away by a shockwave.

 

Okay. It had hit a nerve. Wasn't that just perfect? And Paon's eyes turned to the cursed accessory so intensely it could have burst into flames. People would have fainted if that kind of glare had ever appeared on Adrien Agreste's face. “What of your parents, Nino? Where are they now?” The akuma's eyes lost focus. “Alya's? Marinette's? What did _they_ do?”

 

The bubbles swerved toward Paon, who suddenly found himself a bit too busy to waste saliva. _Juuno, that one came close!_ he thought as he rolled under a raging red bubble. Then found himself facing a shivering reflection of him, seemingly bigger and filtered through the same red hue.

 

“That's a lot of bubbles,” he muttered as he leaped over the barrage of akuma strikes.

 

His landing could have been smoother. One did not land in the fruit punch bowl and still looked very cool. At least, the not-spandex was watertight enough that it didn't actually soaked his boots. And, as a bonus, the splash very easily returned the Bubbler's attention to him. Not that the akuma seemed all there anymore. Underneath, the web of blue threads pulsed erratically. “All… all adults… deserve…”

 

“Lucky Charm!”

 

The akuma's expression shifted to panic. It seemed to abruptly realize that it had gotten itself stuck between the two heroes, and that one of them had used their game changer spell.

 

“Come on, Nino!” he yelled as he charged right toward the akuma. “You should be able to explain it, right? Why else would you do it?”

 

The Bubbler, right on the edge of facing Ladybug, twisted around in a snap, snarling.

 

The wand speared into his guts, and Paon's sight flashed white and black. He fell to his knee with a wheeze, unable to quite hear the panicked shout from his princess as he blinked away stars and the malicious grin of Hawk Moth's victim. The Bubbler's snide one-liner, he missed as well. All he saw was a shivering filter between him and the ground and the rest of the world, green as the others had been. And soon he was feeling weightless, guts left to the ground while the walls of the Agreste estate scrolled down and disappeared from view.

 

With all his might, he struck, and Paon Bleu immediately covered his ears as a thunderclap boomed inside the small bubble.

 

Now with shrilled screeches in his ears, Adrien let himself fall against the bubble's walls.

 

“Well, it's all up to you now, Princess.”

 

\--

 

Let it never be said that Ladybug couldn't deliver without her partner. It may have taken a few minutes at most, and then the light of the Restoration spell had engulfed the sky, and everyone had been brought back to the ground.

 

“W-what…?” His best friend blinked, looking around in confusion. “Paon? Ladybug? Did… did I get akumatized?”

 

Ladybug nodded, clearly uncomfortable.

 

“Shit!” Nino punched the ground, and Adrien jerked to stop him from injuring himself. “No, dude, let go! I ruined my best friend's birthday even worse than his dad!”

 

“You didn't ruin anything, Nino!”

 

The aspiring DJ stopped struggling in his grasp.

 

“Look, I'm sure Adrien is beyond touched that you would care enough for him that you could be turned into an akuma,” he could not stress that part enough. It still choked him up to think about it. Nino shouldn't be feeling bad about it. Adrien thought it was a birthday present all in itself. “And, like it or not, you did manage to throw him a party in the end. A little terrifying for all people involved, but there was dancing and music and some fun, probably. Now he at least has a clue as to what a birthday party looks like.”

 

Nino rubbed his arm. “Yeah… I guess…”

 

Well, that wasn't the instant recovery that Adrien had been hoping for. Trying to keep his smile, he helped lift his best friend up to his feet. Less chances of injuries that way. Nino muttered a word of thanks, but refused to meet either his or Ladybug's eyes. Slowly, he headed toward the gates, and Paon watched until he had nearly gone through them.

 

“It will get better, citizen!” Paon called, one hand raised in a scout's salute. “And that is a Paon Bleu certified promise! I do not lie!”

 

A ghost of a smile lingered on Nino's face, something like a mixture of incredulity ala 'is this guy for real?' and genuine gratitude. Then, his expression settled in one of shame, and he lowered his cap over his eyes. “Thanks...” he said as he left the destroyed party.

 

There had to be more he could do! He shouldn't just let his friend suffer because he wanted to be _nice_ to him! Yeah. He should just follow after, maybe just come over on pretense of witness protection or something like that.

 

All it took was a red and black hand falling on his shoulder to stop him right in his track. “It takes them a bit of time to recover, Paon.”

 

He knew that. Adrien had known that all along, but he had never felt it so strongly as when it was his best friend out there suffering on his own. Caring for Adrien had backfired on Nino in the worst way possible! Something red and hot churned in his guts. Hawk Moth… Hawk Moth was already praying on human weakness, making people fear of being humans! And now… now he was going to strike at people that were _compassionate?!_

 

His fists clenched, and he imagined Hawk Moth's neck crushed underneath. It was a new low. A new depth to sink to. And they were stuck dealing with the aftermath. “Do you think that maybe we…?”

 

He trailed off as Ladybug's earrings gave the telltale warning beep. For a second, their gaze met, and her smile was an apology.

 

“Gotta go!”

 

He watched her silhouette disappear in-between chimneys, until the beeping of his own miraculous brought him down to earth. Glancing at the few guests still around trickling through the front gate, Adrien turned around and leaped over the mansion.

 

\--

 

No one had seen him sneak back inside. Perfect. And with all the adults being a bit disoriented, no one would question his presence inside the house. He could always claim to have gone for a bathroom break or something.

 

He was just about hoping that he had actually performed a completely perfect crime by getting to the front door undetected when he stopped. With all of that, he had been distracted enough that he needed a moment to remember that the presents piled up near the door were actually meant to be for him.

 

Adrien glanced through the windows. There were only two teenagers left, both of them right next to the gates. The tallest was a girl he thought was sitting in his class. You couldn't duplicate a pink streak in your hair like that. Ah, Juleka! Right. Juleka was talking with a much smaller blonde girl and patting her on the shoulder.

 

After a few second, the duo left too, his home's driveway completely deserted.

 

A selfish little part of him winced at the thought that the party could have gone on _longer_.

 

But, after an akuma like the Bubbler, everyone probably just needed to go home and check on their parents.

 

Adrien felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. Father! He'd been so busy trying to avoid getting in trouble that he hadn't even checked up on him yet! “Come on,” he muttered, fiddling with his phone in hands, fingers shaking. The tone dial rang thrice, each a growing anxiety, before a click rang out and an automated voice answered.

 

He told himself that it was obviously because Father had already gone back to work. His voice was still shaky, fragile.

 

“Hmmm, Father? This is Adrien. I'm sorry to disturb you, but there was an akuma attack and it targeted all the adults in the city. I… I wanted to make sure you were alright. Call me back, please? That's all, bye.”

 

Juuno flew out of his pocket. “Adrien. Your father is fine.”

 

Adrien's breath hitched up. “I… thanks, Juuno. It was just… I know he wasn't here today, but I didn't want him to be an akuma's target.” _I didn't want to set Nino against my father._

 

Wasn't it kind of obvious? He had shouted it out loud as Paon Bleu. That made it as set in stone as he could imagine. But it hurt. His father's actions – or lack thereof – had more or less contributed to getting his best friend akumatized. How was it that a friend he had made weeks ago cared enough to get manipulated by Hawk Moth? When his father hadn't even bothered to call?

 

“ _It's not canceled?! There was a city-wide crisis! My parents have texted me three times to tell me to get home already. We're gonna spend all the evening together because of how scared they had been.”_

 

That would be nice, wouldn't it? Just… just being able to sit close to Father. Watch him work maybe. Listen to his heartbeat like he used to do with Mother as a kid. Feel the thrums of a pulse and know that the worst had come by and they were still both alive and well. Maybe Father would look at him.

 

Adrien called again. It went to voicemail again. This time, his tone was more pleading, a bit more scared. Even if… even if it was _just_ to chastise him on his lack of control, he would be able to hear his Father's voice on his birthday!

 

He waited another minute, staring at his phone, willing it to spontaneously erupt with the theme song to Mega Mecha Fighter 2. One minute. Two minutes? Five? And then, he was sighing, letting the usual disappointment settling again. So there he was, the glorious Agreste heir, all alone in the grand entrance to the Agreste home, with just himself, a kwami and a pile of presents.

 

“Dang… I'll even have to open them on my own again.” And the realization created a knot in his throat. Nino wouldn't be here this time. He had thought… over the last few weeks, he had actually came to expect to spend some time with his friends. This was the year he entered public school, met new people, made new friends. A new year, a whole chance for _change_ , and there he was, more of the same. More of the same empty, stupid, **lonely** \--

 

“Adrien…” Juuno cooed. “It's okay. I'm here.”

 

Yes. He had his kwami. Adrien's hands came to rest on the little god's head, even as Juuno brushed Adrien fringe. “Thank you.” He sniffled. “I…”

 

“Shh, you don't need to speak. I know it hurts. But it will get better. And this year,” he gestured to the near mountain of gifts, “you have lots of heartfelt presents. The Bubbler didn't make them buy one, Adrien.”

 

That got a chuckle out of him. His heart still wasn't into shuffling presents around, but he let it to Juuno, who was much more entertained and entertaining.

 

There was something incredibly childish about the way his little friend and mentor would coo at the _pretty colours_. “Adrien, these decorations are glistening!”

 

“It's just wrapping paper, Juuno,” Adrien shrugged, bemused by the kwami's following squawk of indignation.

 

“It's art,” Juuno protested. His tail was curled protectively around a perfectly unfolded wrapping paper bundle on the table. Admittedly, the patterns of golden lines on blue were indeed pretty, but it was just wrapping paper. Even a socially ignorant kid like Adrien knew it was meant to be torn to get to the real meat underneath.

 

“You don't need to be so careful, Juuno. That's only the second present.” The kwami huffed. “Come on. I'll give you your next blueberries in a wrapped fruit basket. With glitter, even.”

 

The peacock god perked up so much Adrien burst out laughing. “You would? Oh, you wonderful human being!”

 

Instead of the tiny hug he had been about to give however, Juuno squeaked and dove right back in Adrien's jacket.

 

The poor teen flinched, not realizing what was going on until he heard someone the clicks of high heels on the floor. He would recognize those steps anywhere, but especially at home. Adrien spun around, one hand to keep his jacket from opening and giving away Juuno's hiding place, and he faced Nathalie.

 

His father's assistant looked somewhat nervous, her poise not nearly as statuesque as usual. Adrien could understand. Few akuma attacks hit people on as wide and precise a scale as the Bubbler's had. Was it the first time Nathalie had been implicated in the assault? Or at least, had directly suffered from it?

 

“Nathalie, are you okay? Is… is everyone okay?”

 

She looked as if she wanted to smile. Then, he noticed the box held in one of her hands. Following his gaze, Nathalie caught his hand, then placed the box inside. “Happy birthday, Adrien. From your father.”

 

Adrien felt as if a jolt had gone through him. He… Maybe it was the attack. Probably. But Adrien couldn't stop himself from hoping and wondering and he quickly tore apart the delicate ribbon holding the box close in spite of the uncomfortable squirming from Juuno at the thought.

 

It wasn't a book on upcoming fashion, nor a ticket to some cultural event, not even a giftcard to a game shop.

 

He took out the scarf from the box with incredible care.

 

Adrien's fingers stroke the fabric. Its quality and softness were decent enough on their own, but the design was very tasteful, easy on the eyes. It would go well with his most common outfits at school. Where had he seen this scarf before? It wasn't from the summer collection, not for the upcoming autumn one… wait, that wasn't part of the current fashion line at all! Did that mean it was an _exclusive_?

 

“Father had it made for me?!”

 

Nathalie gave him a tight-lipped smile and nodded.

 

If he weren't Paon Bleu, if he had had any other kwami, he would have been far too absorbed in the joy, the thrums of his happiness bubbling up in his chest. But it took only a glance back to Nathalie, cold, emotionless Nathalie who kept a fake smile on her face, her hands slightly shaking, and he felt his world shift. He didn't need to see the shades of blue, nor the eyes of the peacock, to tell.

 

Adrien's heart shattered.

 

She lied. He didn't know what the truth was, but the lie was “Your father got you this birthday present.”.

 

He knew it showed on his face. The sobs were already gripping at his throat. Nathalie was suddenly moving closer with a very panicked look in her eyes. “Adrien,” she called, taking his hand with more warmth than ever before. “Adrien, is anything wrong?”

 

“I'm…” His tongue felt stuck to the top of his mouth. “I'm… I'm just overwhelmed, Nat. Can… can I just go to my room, please?”

 

Nathalie's fake smile cracked around the edges. “Of course, Adrien. And happy birthday again.”

 

_Happy birthday. Happy birthday._ It rang in his head like a cruel sneer until he slammed the door to his room behind it.

 

“...Don't say anything, Juuno.” He felt faint, his head resting against his knees, the scarf clutched into a steel grip. “I'll… I'll ask Nathalie if we can get blueberry cupcakes for dessert tonight. Just don't talk, please.”

 

Juuno nodded. “Okay, Adrien, but I will stay close.”

 

Adrien grabbed his kwami and cried.

 

–-

 

“Yeah, I'll be here in less than a minute. I can see the school from the limousine's window,” Adrien said, matter-of-fact, into his cellphone. At his side, Nathalie was typing, her face betraying nothing of her guilt. Sometimes, she glanced to his neck, but never lingered. There was a question in that simple gesture, and Adrien kept resolutely silent.

 

Otherwise, he would start screaming and he did not know if he would ever be able to stop.

 

In the meantime, Adrien focused on the voice on the other end of the line, and frowned when he heard yet another repentant plea. “...No, Nino, I swear I'm not mad at you. Not even a little bit. You're the greatest, do you hear me? No one has ever been akumatized for someone else's sake before. That's like two birthday presents wrapped in one right there.”

 

“ _But dude, I ruined your birthday. I got so pissed at your dad for never doing anything for you, then I turned around and did the same thing. Worse._ ”

 

No. Just no. In no world could Adrien consider what Nino had done worse than his father.

 

It was not his friend's job to say _'Hello'_ or _'Happy birthday, son.'_ It was not Nino's job to ignore all his calls on the day of an akuma attack targeting all the adults in Paris. It was not his job to just _**show up and talk for something other than a damned photoshoot!**_

 

“Nino, I swear if you say that again, I will punch you in the headphones.”

 

“ _Dude!”_ Nino sounded outraged. _“Not cool.”_

 

“Then, believe me. What you did was not in any circumstance worse than what my father does. No way.”

 

Nathalie's fingers slowed down against her tablet, then picked up.

 

“I am fine. I am so glad to have you as a friend, and I'd just wished you would stop feeling guilty about being taken advantage of by a supervillain. It was not your fault in the first place. What, should people just start prosecuting akumas for what they do?”

 

Of course, Nino immediately sputtered in response that it wouldn't be fair, that, dude, no way Ivan or the ice-cream truck man or the waitress down at _Délices de France_ meant to terrorize the city! Not cool!

 

Adrien only had to wait for about seven seconds before his judgmental silence hit his best friend.

 

“… Okay, I see your point.”

 

“So you'll stop feeling guilty and believe me when I say I forgave you already?”

 

“… I'll try.”

 

It was as good as he was going to get.

 

When he got down from his limousine, he noticed Marinette and Alya waiting by the stairs, on the side. Both were looking at him, and within seconds, the dark-haired girl had slumped a bit. It was as if she had expected to see something on him, that was currently absent.

 

It confirmed the feeling that had scratched at the back of his head. The only script on the scarf was a stylized, reversed signature that had looked suspiciously like one of his classmates' name.

 

“Dude?” Nino asked, glancing to the girls as if to see what the fuss was about.

 

“Can you give me just a minute?”

 

Nino immediately raised his hands in front of him. “Sure. Dude, take as much time as you want.”

 

Alright, so maybe his best friend would be walking on eggshells for a little while longer. If Adrien was a more mischievous soul – or if he was wearing his costume –, he might have been tempted to take advantage of that so it would stop. But no, curse his good manners and general sense of human decency.

 

Adrien jogged until he was right in front of the girls, ignoring Chloé's scandalized complaining.

 

“Marinette?”

 

Because once the truth had sunken in, Adrien had still been left with a beautiful hand stitched scarf.

 

“You're the one that got me a scarf for my birthday, right?”

 

Silence fell on them, thick, heavy, and as sudden as the ice-cream man transformation into an akuma. Adrien felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of Ladybug, wearing the fashionable 'deer in headlight' look, and Alya suddenly shoved Marinette forward, hard enough for the girl to bump into Adrien.

 

She _squeaked._ Dang. That was cute.

 

“Y-yes, that was me. I thought it would go well with your eyes – I mean, anything would go well – I mean, you are gorgeous and I made you a scarf and ohmyGod, letmedienow.”

 

Adrien's cheeks took a slight pink color. A girl had just called him gorgeous. As a model, you would think he'd be used to that, but no. The people that called him gorgeous were professional that eyed him like a painting or a sculpture, not one of his peers. The fact that said girl was also the one person he admired more than anyone else in Paris might contribute to this. Might.

 

Okay, though he may be Paon Bleu, he was allowed to put a truth aside for a little bit. He had other things to worry about, and explain. It wouldn't be fair otherwise.

 

“Wow, you made that?” he said, because anything else might make his blush _worse_. “You've got a lot of talent, Marinette. Trust me, I would know about fashionable accessories. And… well, thank you. It meant a lot to me.”

 

Marinette produced a sound that made Adrien seriously worry for her vocal chords. And her belonging to humanity. It _might_ have meant, approximately, roughly, “thank you”, but he wasn't sure.

 

“Huh… W-well, anyway, I just wanted to thank you for the present. And apologize.”

 

Now both girls appeared wary.

 

“A-apologize?”

 

“I bet you put a lot of effort into it – and man, I feel even worse knowing you knitted it yourself –, but I can't wear it right now. It's because…” The words got stuck in his throat. For Ladybugs's sake! “Look, the reason is complicated and it's very personal, but I want you to know that I do like the scarf and I'm going to be wearing it, just… not right now. Sorry again.”

 

“It's… it's fine, Adrien!” Marinette immediately assured him, and to her credit, he barely noticed her mistake. She wasn't looking as winded up. No, there was concern in her eyes, a very sincere one at that. “Take your time, okay?” she breathed out, and he found it a bit easier to smile.

 

That was pure Ladybug. Pure amazing princess of Paris that saved them all and cared so much and Oh God he was blushing to the root of his hair. Time for the tactical retreat.

 

“What was that?” asked Nino when he saw him

 

“Just thanking her for the birthday gift she got me.”

 

“And the running?”

 

“Didn't want to make you wa--” he was shaken by a fit of coughing. _Juuno, you little blob of jello!_ “I... I got embarrassed.” _By all the blushing, which was the truth, so there!_

 

Okay. Nino grinned. Teased. Did all the normal bro stuff. How quickly the guilt was forgotten in favour of tormenting a poor bird lacking his social grace! But they both laughed and they entered the school lighthearted, even if Adrien took a brief second to glance back to Alya and Marinette.

 

Perhaps for the first time, Adrien was able to see the things that made Ladybug in his usually starstruck classmate.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien's anger fizzled like a wet firecracker. The girl had looked relieved, peaceful as the truth seeped into her mind. No, she wasn't more to blame than anyone else for having feelings. Being reminded of it had done her wonders.
> 
> Damn Juuno. Damn the Truth.

 

Paon Bleu kept running.

 

“Who are you behind the mask?” Alya’s furious voice boomed in the otherwise silent hotel.

 

He would call déjàvu, but the fact that it was a supervillain asking was actually new.

 

“Do you think the people of Paris can have faith in someone who keeps secret from them?”

 

“But it's the only secret I keep!” Adrien cried out in indignation.

 

Seriously! He was an open book to all of Paris, baring his heart for them to gaze and wonder and stab, if they felt like it. Couldn't he keep at least _one_ thing to himself? Must they have _everything_?

 

“I wasn't talking to you!” Ah, well, point. Still annoying though. “Tell us who you are, **Ladybug**!” an akumatized Alya insisted pointedly on the name, before swiping at them with another flurry of freezing icons. “The people of Paris deserve to know your true identity! I do! I'm your biggest fan!”

 

Paon saw his Princess' eyes twitch. That one had hit close to home.

 

It would. He might have been just seeing things that he wanted to see, but Ladybug's movements felt atypically uncertain. Closer to what they'd been against Stoneheart than any other akuma.

 

It was human. Beautifully human. And Ladybug had saved his best friend when he had been bumbling around like a child. It was only right that he returned the favor.

 

“Deserve?!” he roared.

 

Lady Wifi's head snapped toward him, just in time to see a table hurling in her direction. The akuma yelped, her fingers moving faster than her vocal chords, and an icon flew from her phone into the table.

 

The sight would have been fascinating, what's with the blatant disregard for the laws of physics at work. Even the sheet covering it remained suspended as if still blazing through the air. Like taking a three-dimensional picture.

 

Paon Bleu hoped whoever was watching Lady Wifi's citywide show had filmed this, because another table slammed into the first. Splinter burst forward, forcing the akuma to jump for cover. A few precious seconds for Ladybug and him to close in and put the pressure.

 

_But not too close_ , he thought as a freezing icon flew a hair breadth away from his face. They skidded to a halt, Ladybug's yo-yo spinning in a shield in front of her. And her glare flickered toward him for a second. “Don't hurt her,” it said. And point, that was a bit aggressive. Still…

 

Still he heard Hawk Moth's words. _Tell us who you are_ . _We deserve to know._

 

The laugh that came to him was a jaded thing. “That's just rich coming from you, Hawk Moth!”

 

The akuma bristled, as they always did when reminded that they were more than just hurt and borrowed power. “I'm not Hawk Moth, you idiot. My name's Lady W--”

 

“You _are_ !” Paon shouted over the lie. “Alya, he made you his pawn. Like he made Nino, and Ivan and the others! Do you think Nino would do what the Bubbler did? What about Ivan and Stoneheart? And you, Alya, you want to _expose_ a superhero and hurt your idol?! No! That's Hawk Moth. All of you, every akuma, you're just Hawk Moth hiding behind the hurt of the people of Paris! You want the truth? A truth worth knowing? How about this one? Who is he? Who is the man threatening all our lives for one half of a pair of magical trinkets?!”

 

A freeze icon hit the table he had been standing on a second ago. The following attack he had expected never came. A red and black yo-yo zipped around Lady Wifi's hands.

 

The butterfly motif flashed before Lady Wifi's eyes and she flinched, gritting her teeth. Whatever orders the damned supervillain was giving, it seemed to hurt. When Lady Wifi began to turn toward his Ladybug, Adrien called out, louder than ever, “I'll make you a deal, Hawk Moth! Reveal yourself to the people of Paris and I'll give you my miraculous!”

 

Time seemed to pause over for both Ladybug and Hawk Moth. They looked at him with wide eyes, as it sank in that Paon Bleu never lied. Couldn't lie. That a broken promise was a lie. He would do it. And pure greed suddenly distorted Alya's face. Hawk Moth didn't even need it. He wanted Ladybug's miraculous. (And more, another, which following Juuno's guess, would be the Black Cat's.)

 

The snarl startled Ladybug out of her own frozen daze, and her yo-yo went flying through the air, barely just missing the channeling item on the phone.

 

Lady Wifi startled and frantically held her phone away from the swing. “I do not need your trinket, Paon,” she scoffed, trying to recover her footing and her countenance.

 

Paon preened as only a supermodel could. “I'm just thinking you're jealous that I make those feathers look good. Come on, don't you want a go at the power of Truth? It's one more miraculous for your collection.” His taunt seemed to sharpen as his voice lowered. “But I gotta warn you, it's not an easy one to use.”

 

Ladybug glanced his way. “Oh Paon…”

 

A whisper to her, “cover me.”

 

And he was off, charging, breaking through the barrage of attacks like a surfer, the waves. He dodged a freezing icon with nonchalant ease. Grinning. His Princess did an excellent job at aiming for the possessed item and poor Alya had the hardest time trying to keep her phone alive.

 

Adrien ducked under another icon, this one coming within a hair's width of striking him in the face. He did not slow down. His eyes followed the pulses of blue over their possessed friend.

 

Fear flickered on Alya's face. She bolted.

 

“Say it!” Paon chased the phone-based akuma through the dining hall. “I saw your face, Hawk Moth. All of Paris saw it! You thought that you could use my miraculous, trick some poor sop and turn the tables against Ladybug. But, then, you realized that you would need to stop lying. You would need to be honest with others and with yourself. It was too high a price. Admit it!”

 

There is was, Adrien's ultimate moment of triumph. The one line he would never be able to top, no matter how hard he tried. And it would be televise for all of Paris to see. For a moment there, he could shed out a tear or two.

 

“You can't handle the truth!”

 

Lady Wifi faceplanted.

 

\--

 

Paon Bleu hugged himself, regretting the lack of sleeves on his costume whilst the cooler air of the night bit his naked arms. According to Juuno, the magic was in him, not in the clothes. Somehow, that did not translate to much protection against whirling winds while near the top of the Eiffel Tower. Something to do with the peacock's resistance to the cold. Or lack thereof.

 

Still, he waited, and paced the platform with a finger rubbing the last two eyes on his miraculous. He had time left, but if Ladybug didn't come back soon…

 

“Wait for me at our meeting place,” she had said before kneeling next to Alya. It hadn't been quite the sweet congratulation he had expected.

 

He could understand. It hurt to see one's best friend akumatized, and the hurt continued after the spell was lifted. Continued when the realization sank in that they had given in to a supervillain, that their feelings of hurt had been spat outward and blown out of proportions by a maniac.

 

Marinette, he knew, would want to twist Hawk Moth's neck for what he did to Alya. Adrien certainly did.

 

He heard feet touch down on metal behind him, and the zip of a line shrinking back in a yo-yo. He span on his heels, halfway to a smile when he noticed the glare on his supreme leader's face.

 

Paon Bleu barely contained his cringe. “Princess. You wanted to talk, I presume.”

 

She stomped to him, her gaze a thunderous warning. “I can't believe you said that!”

 

“It was too good not to use, Princess.” Adrien sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “It's such a classic, and I managed to use it meaningfully too.”

 

His little squee of glee did nothing to endear him to his Princess. If possible – and it seemed to be –, her gaze darkened even more.

 

“Not that, you idiot.” She raised her hand as if to slap him, then formed a fist and lowered it. Her hands trembled. Her head lowered. “Your miraculous. You said you would give it to him. You told me you wouldn't give it up before! You said… you said that being a superhero was the most important thing in your life!”

 

Paon's breath itched. Oh.

 

He placed his hands on her shoulders, spoke gently, “He never would have taken it. Maybe he thought he could trick me, but I would have known. There is no way Hawk Moth could have supported the burden of my miraculous.”

 

Ladybug's hand grasped a handful of his scarf. “…But if he had, would you have left me?”

 

His eyes stung. “To defeat Hawk Moth forever?” he breathed out in a whisper, and Ladybug stiffened. “Yeah, I would have. I'm sorry, Princess.”

 

“No. I'm… that was selfish of me.”

 

“Not at all. Human of you, and there's nothing wrong with that. I'm just… he pisses me off so much. He preys on people's moments of weakness. He is making all of Paris afraid to feel anything. I've heard of people having nervous breakdown because they got angry. It's one of the most horrifying thing I heard of… And he keeps lying, saying he'll grant them what they want, but they've never once received their end of the bargain.” Paon took a deep breath, tucking his shaking fists at his side. “Now, all of Paris was reminded that the one that is hiding is Hawk Moth. They know he's too much of a coward to step into the light. I bet he has taken a big hit to his ego. I hope he has.”

 

Adrien startled at the image that flashed in his mind. Of him and of Hawk Moth, the man on his knees, broken. Sobbing. And the image half-covered in shadows made a part of him grin with a savage satisfaction.

 

“You shouldn't provoke him. He's dangerous. Really dangerous.” Then, quieter, “He might hurt you.”

 

The harsh flicker of green in his eyes warned him of Juuno's opinion on that. Maybe a part of him did feel his heart skip a beat, a hint of fear that the worse might happen. And he understood their worry, their concern for him, and he marveled at his good fortune. He had _them_.

 

He placed one hand over his miraculous, the other on Ladybug's. “I'd rather have him chase me than you.”

 

“Don't say that!” Her hand grasped his so tightly he flinched. “Don't treat yourself as expendable, Paon. You're my partner and my friend. Try to remember that!”

 

Paon nodded quickly, hoping that might hide the tears coming to his eyes.

 

“Dare I ask if you finally return my pure feelings, Princess?”

 

She hit him on the shoulder. “Paon!” But there was a laugh behind it.

 

–

 

Adrien glanced at the clock on the wall, and mentally cheered. Still five minutes before class. With one finger, he hit the 'refresh' button on his phone's browser. Just like he had suspected and secretly wished, the page stretched longer than before. He bobbed his head slightly to the rhythm of the intro music to the Ladyblog, like he had done every time he had checked Alya's work this morning. Speaking of which, the messageboards had erupted with activity around a certain topic.

 

And, as a model, it was one he was familiar with, despite Nathalie's best efforts in filtering the mail, paper or electronic.

 

' _Don't get me wrong, the guy is a goof, cheesy and all, but I'd still… you know?_ '

 

It ought to bother him. But it didn’t. He wanted to strut around like an actual peacock, something he had never felt before. Not even when _Paris's Wardrobe_ had covered him for a front page article. His Father had been particularly pleased. That alone had made Adrien cherish the article, but it had never made him **smug**.

 

_'Like, he is pretty cute and you know he's never going to lie to you.'_

 

_'Yeah, you would be 100% sure he would never cheat on you.'_

 

_'And when he tells you that he loves you, you know he means it.'_

 

Paon Bleu was trending. The closest it had come to Ladybug's popularity since their debut!

 

“What are you doing, dude?”

 

Adrien half-turned to see his friend sitting on the seat to his left.

 

“Oh, huh, just checking out the comments on the Ladyblog. Paon's popularity shot up since the fight with Alya.” Had to be casual. His secret identity depended on it. “I mean, it was pretty cool, right?”

 

Nino snorted. “Right. The Truth meme? You would like him after a line like that.”

 

Leave it to Adrien's best friend to find him uncool while he was superheroing all over Paris! Yeah, that was his life. “Ah, come on, it was in context and everything! A righteous verbal beatdown of the villain to the breaking point. They won the fight right after that!”

 

Nino's mouth quirked up, and he kept up his infuriatingly unimpressed façade. “Because Lady Wifi tripped.”

 

“Paon made her trip!”

 

“Actually, pretty sure that was Ladybug's yo-yo.”

 

The boys both froze as they heard someone clear their throat. With sheepish smiles, they turned to see Marinette standing at their desk with a stern look, and a strangely subdued Alya walking up the stairs to her seat. By the unsubtle glances her friend kept aiming at Alya, the boys knew that they had heard their comments about her akuma form.

 

They winced. “Sorry, Alya.”

 

Nino began to stand. “Alya, if yo–”

 

“I'm not in the mood to hear it, guys.” Alya raised a hand, inhaled and closed her eyes. “I was akumatized. It happens to a lot of people. I get it.”

 

A flickering of green and blue, hovering about her, tainting her words turquoise. Adrien's heart went to her. She knew, but she didn't believe it.

 

“But you need to hear it.” He rested his arms on the girls' desk, his eyes so serious they gave Alya pause. “It wasn't your fault at all. Hawk Moth's a leech and a plague on Paris and I could go on for hours about how much I want the guy to go down. Point is: he preyed on you and your very normal, very human emotions. He twisted your hurt into a monster and no, you're not responsible for it either.”

 

“Yeah, Alya, no one is to blame.” Nino stood in truth this time, and he gave Alya a look brimming with turmoil. “Do you think… do you think it was my fault that parents all over Paris we–?”

 

“Nino!” Alya cut in, grabbing the boy's hands firmly. “Don't even think it!”

 

“It goes for you too, Alya,” Marinette jumped in. “For every akuma victim.”

 

“Yes, but…”

 

Adrien's eyes zoomed in on the burst of green. He pounced. “Hey, I bet Ladybug herself said that it was okay.”

 

“Y-yeah… she… she did.” Her words slowed. Then, to Adrien's astonishment, the proud, always brave, cocky confident girl, sniffed. Lifted her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “I went after Ladybug! I went after my idol and she… she just forgave me.”

 

“Alya, no one is responsible for their actions when they're possessed by an akuma!” Marinette blurted out, grabbing her friend's hands. Her gaze held a fervent, firm belief that could not be broken. “Ladybug knows that better than anyone! She did not hold it against you at all. She was just happy you were safe once it was over.”

 

“But… Ladybug…”

 

Adrien nodded. “Every akuma goes after Ladybug and Paon. He just played it as if it were your ideas instead of his. That's what he does. Twist and change and make something wrong out of people. But it's on him. It's always on him, and him alone.”

 

For a long time, Alya seemed to only look at them, her expression of dismay unchanged. Her left hand remained in Marinette's grip, who squeezed and gave her best friend a firm but gentle look.

 

Alya collapsed in her chair, chuckling while hiding her face. She raised a hand to stop Marinette from getting any closer. A second later, she was looking back at them with a watery smile. “Thanks, guys. You're the best.”

 

In the corner of his eyes, Adrien saw Nino puffed out a little, opening his mouth to boast a bit, but it was not his voice they heard.

 

“Guess you're not such a Ladybug fan after all.” Adrien's ears rang, as he was suddenly seized by nausea. No, no, no no, no, what was Chloé doing?! “Like, what kind of self-proclaimed number one fan would ever attack their idol? Sounds to me like the Ladyblog is just about getting attention.”

 

Adrien didn't quite hear Sabrina's immediate attempt to add something to Chloé's words. He only saw the way Alya's face crumbled and her insecurities surged back with the force of a sledgehammer. Just like that, the fragile confidence they had tried building broke.

 

Breathing. In, out. “Chloé, stop it,” he asked as politely as he could. Which still sounded clipped and stern. “People aren't responsible for what they do when Hawk Moth takes control of them. You know that.”

 

“She sounded plenty of control. I mean, she's always going on about finding out Ladybug's true identity anyway. Just goes to show what she's like deep down.”

 

Marinette's face turned crimson, and she seemed to bitterly regret not being tall enough to be able to deck Chloé from across her and Alya's desk.

 

“Shut up, Chloé!”

 

Adrien's self-proclaimed best friend sniffed, looking at her manicure appraisingly. “Why are you all getting so mad about this? I mean, it's pretty obvious. I'm just telling the truth.”

 

The miraculous in his jacket's pocket flared. Burned, seared against through his shirt and shoved its fury into Adrien's heart. His backpack rattled so hard Adrien would have been worried had their attention not been monopolized by Chloé. He could almost hear Juuno's fuming. _How dare she?_

 

Chloé's silhouette had turned a shade of blue so dark it appeared nearly black.

 

“You're not!” He turned so fast his chair clattered on the floor. Heads all around the class turned in shock. “You just want to hurt Alya because people listen to her about Ladybug. You're jealous!”

 

The blond girl stared with her mouth hanging open, and more than half the class had gone eerily silent.

 

“I… Adrien, that's ridiculous,” she assured, her tone light, amused, as if Adrien had been joking. Her confidence had not been shaken enough for it to sink in. “Everyone knows I'm Ladybug's biggest fan anyway.”

 

Ladybug's biggest fan? Oh, she fangirled alright. Probably bought all the merchandise on the street, if he knew anything about her. Maybe dress up as her. But Ladybug herself would never agree to that. What did Chloé admire in Ladybug that made her think her bullying would be approved? Ladybug was strong, immensely, but the really great part of her? It was her moral fiber. Her big, soft heart that could care for a goof like Paon as well as the stranger on the street that had had a bad day. Ladybug had _never_ blamed an akumatized person for Hawk Moth's actions, and Paon Bleu knew from personal experience that it was easy to resent the supervillains throwing sawblades at your face!

 

Chloé's claim of being the biggest fan looked pretty weak then. What kind of Ladybug fan would go against her idol's words? What kind of desperately looking for attention…? For a second, Adrien faltered in his anger. She was his best friend. She kept _saying_ she was his best friend, and she took pleasure in trying to shred a girl Adrien had just tried to comfort.

 

He clenched his fists so hard they hurt.

 

“They don't even know your name!” He slammed his fists into his desk, and the impact boomed into the classroom. “Ask people in the street and they will stare until you explain that your father's the mayor of Paris because everyone knows that's all you ever accomplished! At least Alya's fame comes from her own efforts and hard work! What did you ever _do,_ Chloé, to be above the rest of the plebs, as you so often tell me? Have money? Wear expensive clothes? Not know when you're being a pest?!”

 

People stared, gobsmacked. Jaws hanging low. Nino quietly stepped back from his outburst, looking at him as if he'd never seen him before. “Holy crap, Adrien...”

 

“I swear, Chloé, if you _dare_ mention your father in the next sentence, I'm never talking to you again.”

 

Chloé had frozen. Her mouth clamped shut, as if she was scared she would instinctively slip. As if she didn't know any word in her defense that did not in any way, shape or form involve her father.

 

Adrien felt his stomach sink. What did Chloé even _have_ that wasn't related to her precious status as the mayor's daughter? Sabrina? Whom she still treated with her usual, self-centered friendship. He almost wanted to take back his words. Almost, for he could still see Alya in the corner of his eyes. So, he looked upon Chloé, still immobile, and he was struck by a staggering sense of pity. What was she even going to do when her father stopped running for mayor?

 

“In your seats, students,” said a voice that was definitely not Chloé's, or any teenager's, for that matter.

 

Mrs. Mendeleiev's timely arrival ripped into the silence as one shattered a spell. Students shuffled to sit down and look anywhere but in Adrien or Chloé's direction. Whilst before there had been murmuring about the latest akuma fight, he doubted that topic would remain of interest to the school's gossips for very long.

 

Their teacher did not seem to overtly care that she had interrupted an argument between her students. If she had even noticed, then she was not showing it. After placing her suitcase next to her desk, Mrs. Mendeleiev picked up a piece of chalk and started scrambling on the blackboard behind her.

 

He waited until her back was turned, then Adrien turned his to face back Alya. “Alya, what Chloé said is a bunch of lies. She's just jealous that Ladybug actually _knows_ who you are. And that she forgave you. I know it. I think _everyone_ in the class knows it.”

 

“Would you do us the honor of explaining today's experiment, Mr. Agreste?”

 

Adrien jolted in his seat and swirled around with a big, innocent puppy-like smile. Of course, Mrs. Mendeleiev was either not human, or outright immune to natural human instincts and did not forgive him on the spot. After a few seconds of frantic glancing at his notes and the blackboard, Adrien finally felt his brain cry out in triumph.

 

“We're going to observe the effect of osmosis between solutions of saline and distilled water, with variations in filters!” he more or less shouted, before going beet red at Mrs. Mendeleiev's annoyed look, and the snickers of his classmates.

 

“Next time, keep your eyes on the board,” his teacher bit out, “and refrain from shouting. We can all hear you very well, Mr. Agreste.”

 

He shrunk down in his seat. “Sorry. Won'--” _t happen again,_ he meant to say. But apparently, wow, no, it was going to.

 

The heat in his cheeks and forehead spread down to his neck and ears. Oh sweet blueberries… how was he supposed to look Mrs. Mendeleiev in the eyes knowing he was going to be a delinquent again in the near or not so near future?

 

During the experiment – a complete bore –, Mrs. Mendeleiev walked in between the desks, humming to herself as she looked at the students' set-up, stopping once to correct Kim and Alix before they went any further.

 

When she came to Adrien and Nino's desk, she glared at him behind her spectacles as if she knew, as if he was truly a troublemaker that needed to be stomped down before he dragged the whole class with him. He nearly blurted out an apology for the misbehavior he hadn't even committed yet.

 

Instead, he plastered on a repentant smile and broke eye contact two seconds in.

 

And his eyes landed on Chloé.

 

He knew that look. He knew the look of a Chloé that was angry and plotting. And even now, it wasn't toward him. He was the one that had angered her, but she wasn't going to take revenge on him. Never. Because the pretty picture in Chloé's head meant that the two of them could never have real fights. That whatever Adrien had said were all just silly emotions talking, and nothing that serious. It meant that she would never turn the snide, venomous words on him. Her wants allowed nothing else than a fake, plastic duo of dolls that would look good in front of a camera.

 

It killed him inside.

 

“ _Adrien… I heard about your mom. Do you want to talk?”_

 

_Chloé doesn't share._

 

He, alongside Nino, turned a little at the sound of Mrs. Mendeleiev's stern voice lashing. “Mr. Kurtzberg, do you consider yourself so good in chemistry that you can afford to waste your time drawing?”

 

Adrien cringed. That could have been him. Should have, by all definitions of logic. Now, he couldn't help as if he had made it worse on poor Nathanaël with his terribly timed reassurance to Alya.

 

His classmate looked as if he wanted to sink in the floor.

 

Mrs. Mendeleiev was merciless. “Take these, and showcase your talent to the principal. I'm certain he will have quite a few things to say about how you use your time in my classes.”

 

With hurried movements, the young artist gathered his work in his arms, piled it on top of his chemistry book and made for the door.

 

He would have, if it hadn't been for the foot that stretched in his path at the last second.

 

The drawings spilled on the floor like a splash of ink. Nathanaël's face changed from ashamed to panicked. The boy scrambled to pick every paper. He wasn't fast enough to see Chloé bend over and lift one in the light.

 

“What is that?” she asked no one in particular, her face scrunched up in focus. Her expression remained the same for a heartbeat, then her eyes slowly widened as a nasty grin began to take form. “Oh. My. God! You're drawing yourself with Marinette?”

 

Adrien's stomach churned. Anger reared back its ugly head, but for the first few seconds, Adrien found himself glaring at _Nathanaël_. He didn't even know why. Didn't realize it right away. In his pocket, his miraculous jolted, scratching in his mind like a screech or a bird's cry, and Adrien paled. He wished the school's floor would open and just swallow him whole.

 

Chloé's taunt, ironically, was the thing that brought him out of his daze.

 

“This is so creepy. And pathetic.”

 

“Chlo--” he started to say.

 

“Enough!” Mrs. Mendeleiev's voice snapped like whiplash. “Mrs. Bourgeois, back in your seat. Mr. Kurtzberg, to the principal's office. Now.”

 

Clutching his drawings to his chest with shaking hands, Nathanaël ran past Adrien.

 

For the rest of the class, Adrien kept glancing back to the door, expecting it to explode in a flurry of madness and revenge.

 

When Chloé unsurprisingly tried to make a show of forgiving him at the end of the class, Adrien brushed her off without a word or a look. He did not have time for her honeyed poison today. Paon Bleu would be needed soon for another akuma fight.

 

Except there wasn't an akuma in the coming hour. Not even until sunset.

 

And even then, it wasn't Nathanaël like Adrien had expected.

 

\--

 

By the time he had gotten back home, exhausted from a difficult akuma battle – who would have thought bubble wrap could enrage someone so much? –, Adrien was officially worried. Maybe Nathanaël had gotten over it by himself. Not terribly unlikely. Hawk Moth could have just been busy and missed his chance. It would make sense, but Adrien wasn't buying it. His peacock senses had been tingling, telling him something would happen. So to stand there and see nothing… well, it was the reason he was pacing back and forth behind his bedroom's couch.

 

“Adrien, stop it.”

 

“Something's not right. There was this thing with Nathanaël today, and I thought for sure… It's like I could feel it, but… Nothing. It's been bugging me all day. It all started when I told Chloé off.”

 

He shouldn't have said it. Why had he even bothered? He just pissed her off, nothing would change, except she would be unbearable for everyone else around her for days, until he apologized. It was how things worked in Chloéland.

 

“It was the truth, Adrien,” Juuno piped up from his spot on his bedside table. “You weren't twisting anything to hurt Chloé.”

 

“No, I knew the Truth would hurt her well enough!” Adrien snapped. “That's all it ever seems to do to people. Hurt.”

 

“Did it hurt Alya?”

 

Adrien's anger fizzled like a wet firecracker. The girl had looked relieved, peaceful as the truth seeped into her mind. No, she wasn't more to blame than anyone else for having feelings. Being reminded of it had done her wonders.

 

Damn Juuno. Damn the Truth.

 

Adrien dropped himself onto his couch. “I want to apologize to Chloé.”

 

“You do.”

 

“But she'll just pretend that what I said was just nonsense and go back to hurting people.”

 

“She will.”

 

“Can you not, Juuno?!”

 

The peacock kwami gave him a look and Adrien blushed despite his anger. Another thing to apologize about. Damn it all!

 

His head rolled back, leaning heavily on his couch's arms. With a sigh, he gazed upon the ceiling of his room like it was the most interesting thing ever. “Being honest all the time is exhausting, Juuno. Why can I never get a break? It's like I'm rubbing my skin raw and then jumping in a cold bath.”

 

The blue blob that was his mentor shrugged, as if powerless. “I already told you my powers were not ones to be trifled with.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, more dangerous and terrible than I would believe. I get it.” His brain caught up to his mouth, and he groaned. “That was rude. Again. Sorry. I just…”

 

“Adrien, it's fine.” Juuno patted his locks. “I do understand.”

 

Gentle warmth flickered in Adrien's chest. And there was the flipside. Sure, it hurt and it left him always feeling raw, but when the truth was a nice thing, it struck deep every time. If his kwami said things were fine, then that was that. Juuno did understand, and he did not begrudge Adrien for his feelings, _unlike a certain someone._

 

It wasn't quite enough to get him to stop worrying, but it did smother the worse of it. “I need fresh air, Juuno. Wings out.”

 

Adrien opened up the window, then soared.

 

–

 

The next akuma, ironically, was a jogger that had left in the early morning to try and benefit from the fresh air only to have been interrupted and blocked four times in a row on the sidewalk only to find his favorite route closed due to repairs.

 

Adrien shouldn't feel such kinship toward a stranger possessed by Hawk Moth, but he did.

 

His sympathy was rapidly evaporating though.

 

“Out of my way!” The off-purple man screeched as his elongated feet slammed into Adrien's chest. “It is Ladybug's miraculous that I'm after!”

 

“Damn,” he wheezed out. Adrien clutched at his ribs. He sure hoped his Princess called down the Restoration spell soon.

 

Ladybug! His eyes opened wide, and he shot a look up the ramp. The Running Man was blitzing through the construction site, aiming straight for his Princess. The Lucky Charm wasn't ready yet!

 

“La… Ladybug,” Paon Bleu wheezed.

 

“Cataclysm!”

 

Paon did not have time to turn around to see the speaker. Blackness like ink spread across the ground at an astonishing speed, and even the akuma knew not how to react to the magic seeping under his feet.

 

And that was before Paon's eyes bulged out of his skull at the sight of the planks _disintegrating_ under the akuma. It was almost comical, the way the akuma squeaked “what's going on? What's going on?” as he fell through the worker's platform. Maybe that was why Paon Bleu stared.

 

Ladybug, on the other hand, caught the akuma before he hit the ground. Though, in the small twitch of her mouth, Paon could see she too was unnerved by this turn of event.

 

Neither of them had time to process what had happened, not quite. It had just been an opportunity, one that Ladybug couldn't let pass them.

 

“Paon! Get the item!”

 

Paon tried. He punched the ground, leaned heavily on that arm, trying to ignore the pain that still speared through his abdomen. If nothing had been punctured, he certainly had at least some broken ribs. His legs gave up under him, and his mouth again tasted the bitterness of dust.

 

“Paon!” Ladybug screamed again, but this time, her voice was shrilled with panic.

 

In the corner of his eyes, he saw a black shadow rise from the ground near the akuma. Blood and darkness seemed to mix together in the blur of Adrien's sight, but the silhouette was that of a man. A teenager, maybe. Paon didn't really see what he did. He only knew that he blinked, and the newcomer clung to the screeching Running Man, and then came a sickening crunch.

 

“Ladybug! The akuma!” cried the stranger.

 

He heard Ladybug's yo-yo zip around, he heard her cry the Restoration Spell, and he was washed over by warmth, by care and a hint of something colder beneath. Worry, panic, fear.

 

Paon's sight cleared, as the pain itself vanished. His limbs and head felt light. It was easy to stand now when a second ago, he had collapsed. Paon Bleu looked at the akumatized victim on the ground of the construction site, seemingly confused, and the newcomer at his side saying something Paon couldn't hear.

 

But he could see him. Very well. He was thin, a bit smaller than Adrien, with hair a much deeper shade of red, one not entirely unfamiliar. He was also wearing a black leather getup that Adrien thought was half really freaking cool and half way too deep into bondage.

 

It was tempting to call the intruder an akuma despite him having just shown up to fight for them, but Paon's sight flared with Juuno's power. The guy shone in soft shades of green. He was indeed the real deal. Paon glanced at the cat ears on the guy's head, the belt tail at his hips, and he felt his relief at winning shatter.

 

_Please, no._

 

He seemed to notice Paon's and Ladybug's staring, and blushed. “N-never fear!” the red-haired boy stuttered. “Chat Noir is here!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think it would be that smooth of a ride, did you?
> 
> *exit stage left, whilst laughing evilly*


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Adrien Agreste could be a Grade-A jerk. Not that surprising, considering the legacy he had to live up to. In fact, perhaps love made all Agreste act like terrible persons. Genetics had to be the reason for the inner turmoil of churning anger, fear and jealousy currently weighing down on his mind.
> 
> That didn't make him less guilty.

Ladybug giggled.

Not that Adrien minded that he almost never managed to get a giggle out of his Princess. She just… giggled at the new Chat Noir's antics. Said antics consisted of tripping over his tongue and nearly faceplanting but still. Ladybug never laughed when he ran straight into a wall!

A very sane and very buried part of Adrien thought that it was actually a good thing. But the day he listened to reason instead of the mess of burning emotions in his chest had not come yet. So what if his miraculous' hums buzzed against his chest? That could mean anything!

His miraculous grew hot.

_Fine, Juuno, I mind very much!_

It settled against his chest. Leave it to Juuno to protest the most minute of details like Adrien's very small feelings of utter jealousy. Not like those mattered!

“Well, I'm glad to have finally met you, Chat Noir.” His wonderful princess placed a hand over the new superhero's shoulder and nodded. “I've been told to expect you. Now, our team is finally complete.”

Oh, an ugly, burning thing reared its head in Adrien's guts. Like a monster smelling blood. Paon clenched his fists, crossed his arms. _Don't. Nothing about it. Nothing about it, Ladybug's just a friendly and wonderful person._

“It... it was my privilege, Ladybug,” the boy stuttered, then, still blushing, turned to Paon, “Paon Bleu.”

Adrien blinked, the best in his chest momentarily unfocused. Had Chat Noir just nod respectfully toward him?

_Not everyone is thinking in terms of love rivals, Adrien!_ he chastised himself a second later. Which really served to prove he had no reason to feel jealous. At all. None. Nada. Zilch.

“H-hey,” Paon replied, clearing his throat. “That... huh... that was good work you did.”

Chat Noir beamed, and Adrien felt as if he was back in that studio with an akuma he had caused. The beast in his chest protested, growled. He couldn't let his guard down! Ladybug had been expecting him. Their team was complete now!

The beeping of his miraculous chimed like the bells of salvation.

“Ah, huh, gotta run. Almost out of time. I'll let you give him the rundown, Princess!”

And he fled.

\--

 

“I think we should talk about this.”

Of course, that would be the first thing Juuno would say once they had returned to Adrien's room.

“Well, I'm sure it would be an interesting discussion,” -- which was true, if interesting could also apply to going nuclear, and Juuno could just feel his chosen's emotions about to explode -- “but I am almost late for school because of the supervillain attack. So, that talk can wait until I'm not busy preparing my stuff.”

Juuno floated up to the boy, his expression something of fatherly concern. “You can't lie to yourself, Adrien.”

“It's not a lie if I'm not talking! I'm not thinking about it, okay? I'm… I don't…” _I don't care that Ladybug finally found her Chat Noir even though I'm already her partner! “_ I don't want to talk about it! And that's that, Juuno! _”_

The kwami sighed and floated down to his bowl of blueberries. His poor little chick would learn. But right now, he probably needed some time to think about it. Few humans were ever ready to face the whole truth. But it would have to happen sooner or later.

And sooner would be best, the little kwami thought, biting a blueberry as he tuned in for the morning news. An early passerby had caught a picture of the new superhero in town. Speculations were already flying in.

 

\--

 

Juuno had given him the judgemental look throughout his ride to school with the Gorilla. Adrien's skin had crawled. He wasn't... damn his deal. So, he was unnerved by the piercing look Juuno aimed his way, but that did not mean he was going to admit his feelings in what his bodyguard would see as an empty limousine!

_Don't think about it,_ Adrien had told himself. _You have a lot of practice with that._

_Wait_ …

That might have been too honest for mental-Adrien. What had he meant by 'lot of practice'?

Getting off the limousine, he shuddered as he remembered the calculating gaze Nathalie had sent him the other day. Her eyes had flickered to his naked neck, as if wondering why he wasn't wearing a certain present after such a show of happiness the other day. Adrien had pretended not to notice.

_Yeah, that,_ grunted his own mental voice.

For a second, his fingers lingered on the outline of his miraculous, hidden in the pocket of his jacket. Then he had gone to join Nino in the courtyard.

He almost forgot his worrying when his best friend's face lit up at the sight of him. “Adrien! How're you today?

“Alright.” Adrien shrugged. “I mean, not terribly great, but I’ll be fine.”

Worry instantly appeared on Nino’s face. “Wait, you sure you’re okay? Look, you know you can talk to me, about anything, promise, I won’t sell your secrets to the paparazzi,” he pledged, hand raised in a scout’s salute.

The fact that he appeared bathed in green light to Adrien only made the teen’s mood lighter. Yeah, things would be fine. Especially with friends like this.

“Well, since you won’t sell my sordid secrets to the medias...”

Nino snorted. “Sordid? You? Pull the other one. You’re like, the closest thing to an actual paladin I've seen in real life. Well, that, or a ray of sunshine physically molded into a human being by angels.”

Hints of blue flashed around Nino’s smile.

“Nino, are you okay?” His friend startled. “You look really nervous.”

“Ah, wow, that nervous, huh? Well, you're not wrong, I guess. I was hoping I could get your help with something today.”

Adrien could not help the sceptical look on his face. Sure, once in awhile, Nino asked about the odd favour such as a quick rundown of their lessons or something like that. But his friend generally didn't seem downright embarrassed about it besides the usual mock-envy. This time, Nino was downright glancing around to make sure no one was looking.

“I…” Nino rubbed the back of his head, blushing. “It's... I...”

Adrien tried to appear as non-judgemental as physically possible. Considering he was a model with a reputation for his innocence, that ended up looking somewhat between puppy and cinnamon roll. “Yes?” he motioned with his hands.

“I have a crush on Marinette.”

He froze. Oh, sweet lies, he had not just heard that! His best friend had a crush on Marinette. The girl he himself rather liked. A lot. It was complicated.

And it had just gotten a whole lot more complicated. Nino's words had been accompanied by a soft green aura. He was sincere. He actually liked Marinette _that way._ The same way that he and Nathanaël looked at Marinette. A third guy was entering the running for Marinette dating rights. A given, considering how absolutely wonderful his Princess was, but for goodness' sake!

Adrien killed the neanderthal urged to fight for dominance that nearly rose within him. Nino before hoe. Not that Marinette was…

“Dude?” Nino asked, folding on himself. “Okay, I get it, no need to facepalm. Sheesh.”

“No, nevermind that. Me hitting my forehead was completely unrelated to your crush. I'm just an idiot that rambles when I'm nervous.”

“Why would you be nervous?”

“I said nevermind!” He put an arm around Nino's neck. “It's time to plan your wooing strategy!” And physically restrain himself from sabotaging his best friend's efforts. Because he was a good friend that liked Nino and... Damn it all to model hell!

 

\--

 

Adrien deserved a damned sainthood. He had actually managed to arrange for Nino and Marinette to spend a whole afternoon by themselves. His nails would have been gnawed clean off had that terrible habit not been driven out of him by the time he had started modeling.

Thus, he instead repressed all his emotional turmoil with all the practice living with his father had given him. _Okay, Adrien, keep your voice pure and helpful._

“Yeah, he's coming but first, I wanted to stay a bit with you to tell you…” Bite his tongue, pull through, for Nino! “I love you, Marinette.”

The listening device had been purely to instruct Nino in the ways of love. Juuno insisted that peacocks were natural born charmers. Adrien agreed. He had bitten his tongue, tasted blood and given honest advice on what Nino should say. In fact, Adrien had very easily imagined himself saying those exact same words to Marinette. It made his insides cold to know that Marinette would be looking at his best friend instead of him as she heard that.

And yet, after all that trouble, Nino had said...

“It's... your friend Alya.”

What.

The.

Hell.

“Nino, what are you doing?” he hissed into the mic. After wrenching his heart and showing it still beating to the world, Nino _could not_ be getting cold feet now. “Stick to the plan. Say that was a slip of the tongue and that you really love her!”

Even he did not have faith that this would work. What kind of girl went with the man that slipped and confessed to liking her best friend? How, after all his sacrifices and actually blood to NOT sabotage things, yes, HOW did Nino manage to sabotage himself?!

Then, there was the panther and Ladybug managed to hide Alya and Nino together in a steel cage.

 

\--

 

He couldn't do a thing against Animan. His enhanced strength and speed allowed him to compete with most of the animals he could turn into, but there was nothing Adrien could do to stop him from transforming into a bird and escaping.

Animan had seen him jump, and sharply changed direction before Paon even came close.

Adrien had, of course, landed right in the Seine.

Spitting and coughing, the miserable teenager broke out of the water and pulled himself on the riverbank. Knowing his luck, someone had captured this glorious moment on film. In just a couple of minutes, people would be laughing and commenting on his amateurish mistake and his general uselessness. Or even better, they would say he should just let Ladybug and Chat Noir handle it.

Paon rolled over the cement, panting, his wet blue hair sticking on his mask. That... that had just been sloppy... He knew better than that. Why had he jumped in so quickly? Oh yeah, because Ladybug had looked like she wanted to catch the akuma right there and then. Chat Noir had glanced at his baton, like he didn't know what to do with it, and the same little monster in Adrien's chest had _laughed_. In one jump, he'd gotten to the roof of the panther's cage; with the second, he had intended to catch up to the hawk. Not quite.

Paon Bleu swiped a sticky strand of hair away from his eyes and forced himself onto his feet. Okay, he had probably deserved to fall in the Seine. A good dose of cold water to calm down his hot temper. With a sigh, he jumped back to the street next to the Seine, only to realize he was completely alone.

He had lost sight of Ladybug and Chat Noir. Where were they?

Had they ditched him? ...No. His Princess wouldn't do that to him, even if he were a gigantic embarrassment to superheroes everywhere. She must have been thinking he'd regroup and find them quickly. Right.

...He didn't have a gadget to call them with.

Crap! He thought as he swirled around, tapping his fingers on his chin. What was he supposed to do now? Think, Adrien, think! Animan had swerved in midair, it had to be somewhere near... the Dupain-Cheng bakery! The thought threw him into motion. If he could regroup now – maybe on top of the bakery, they could see Animan coming –, there would still be time to salvage his mistake today.

A strident scream pierced through the air.

Paon's boots skidded on the road, as he whipped his head around. Near the end of the street, large shapes stampeded around or through the parked cars. The screaming rang again.

“Sorry, Princess.”

He'd never forgive himself otherwise. Maybe the Restoration spell could fix things. He didn't want to have to find out.

Paon leaped. From rooftop to lampposts to the top of cars, he sprang and rolled and rushed until the shapes had clarified and become the bodies of wild animals. The crowd from the zoo had not lost time running, and now the African animal exhibit had invaded this part of the 21st district.

“Please, Ladybug! Help us!”

Paon's head whipped around to a woman curled around a screaming baby, offering her back and arm to a trio of lions.

He barrelled into a wall of tan fur with a roar of his own. His palms dug into flesh, squeezed, pulled. Pulled and pulled, back, away from the mother and her child, whilst the writhing mass of spitting anger over him twisted and claws swiped the air.

Pain ran over his skin in stripped line, on his shoulder, on his chest and his cheek. Fangs racked against his mask, dug just under the hole for his eyes. Paon couldn't hear a sound over his heartbeat, over his own roaring.

He swung. The lioness yowled as its body collided with another, and both were sent flying in a heap of tan fur.

Another rushed into view of Paon. Larger, with a brownish mane pulling down over its shoulders. The lion jumped, claws outstretched.

“You!” Paon cocked back his fist. “Down, kitty!”

The lion's roar cut short as Paon's fist dug into its chin and lifted the beast off the ground. One heartbeat passed while it soared in the air. The next, it crashed onto a table that broke into hundreds of shards of glass.

Paon watched in amazement as the king of animals beat a hasty retreat, followed by its female companions. “Okay, I gotta admit. Punching a lion felt really good for my ego.”

An arm suddenly wrapped around his torso, a hysterical voice filling his ears over the sound of shrilled crying. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you thank you so much Paon! You saved us. My baby. My little girl.”

Stumbling, Paon extirpated himself from the iron-clad grip of the crying mother, twisting so he could support her and the small screeching bundle of clothes held against her chest.

“It's okay, madam, you're safe. They won't come back.”

But other critters might just come around.

Paon Bleu had never been so relieved to see the flashing blue and red lights of a police car before. The fleet of white cars began pouring around the roundabout, flashing, alerting the few fleeing citizens to its presence. And the animals that saw it dispersed through the alleys in panic.

A fresh wave of screams cut through the song of the car's sirens. Paon's head snapped around. A bunch of people, some of them teenagers, fled out of a café. But one remained trapped on the terrace.

“Madam, I have to go. Run to the police cars, okay?”

Through her tears, the young mother nodded, and Paon gave her a smile. “Thank you,” she whispered again, before breaking into a run.

Paon did not have time to check on her further. He was in the air, batting his arms and legs as if to swim, to fend off the resistance and move faster still. Chairs and tables and wild animals all rushed to him, and Paon landed feet first on a long chair that bounced off the floor, broken in half from impact.

Maws full of fangs snapped at his feet, inches away from his body. Adrien jumped from one feet to the other as three crocodiles marched on him.

“What's with that?! Predators that big usually don't cooperate or compete on such a meagre little bird!”

As if to answer him, the crocodile's eyes flashed purple.

_Kinda walked into that one._ “Ah, yes, mind control. Of course.”

He backflipped his way unto a table, accidentally kicking off a coffee cup straight onto a gazelle's face. The horned animal yelped and turned to him, head lowered, horns positioned perfectly well to skewer him.

“Now, just a sec, guys. I heard peacock kebabs are terrible.”

On one hand, he had to admit seeing animals like a gazelle glaring freaked him out a bit. Those were meant to look cute and cuddly!

On the other hand, most of the animals' attentions had been gathered and focused on him. The superhero with superpowers and that had just punched a lion in the face. So, okay, it was one lion, and not three crocodiles, a gazelle and two rhinos. But still. It counted for something.

Unfortunately, it had only caught _most_ of the animals' attention. Right at the back, a dark shape slunk off from the small crowd and moved onto a less competed for prey. Sabrina ran to the corner of the terrace. “Paon, help!” she called, trapped by the terrace's fence.

His legs turned into springs. He vaulted over the snapping jaws, barely avoid the horn rising toward his face, and fell backside first onto a mass of hissing fury.

“Whoa!” he cried out as the animal growled and bucked.

He briefly saw the sky, somewhat cloudy overhead, before falling face first against the wooden floor. The hit resonated within the mask, but Adrien barely felt it. Not like he felt the jolt of annoyance at the sight of what he first mistook for Animan's panther form, looming over him.

“Paon!” the poor girl cried out in fear.

She needed not to. Paon, as they all learned, was much faster than those beasts. In one uninterrupted motion, he rolled out of the way of the panther's swipe and rose at the girl's feet, clutching her against his shoulder while he jumped to the safety of the rooftops.

“Gotcha!” He grinned. “Are you okay, Sabrina?”

The girl stared, her glasses on the tip of her nose, her hair completely dishevelled by the sudden ascension.

“Yes.”

“Were you alone?”

Still shaking like a leaf in the wind, the poor girl whispered a faint 'no'. Her hands were wrung together, held over her chest and her breathing was shallow.

“Sabrina, it's okay. Who were you with? Chloé?” Paon asked, one hand resting on her shoulder. He put every effort in not squeezing her skin when she confirmed his fear. _Chloé._ “Alright. Stay on the roof, okay? You're safe. The really dangerous ones should stay close to the ground. And just to be sure…”

He leaned over the edge of the roof and glanced to the menagerie still waiting on the ground. Fear suddenly pulled at his heartstrings. God, he hoped Chloé hadn't been down there. If she had... No, he wasn't going to be thinking about that.

Paon somersaulted to the ground, landing right in the middle of the crowd of berserk animals with both arms outstretched toward the sky. A professional gymnast wouldn't have managed a better landing.

“Hey!” he addressed the beasts. “Anyone of you feel like eating chicken tonight?”

He couldn't tell how many animals had been freed, not like that. Hard to fight so many at once as well. But he could piss them off rather easily. There were, after all, pitchers of water lying around.

The first, he aimed at the panther, who spat in anger and yowled and hissed worse than a cat in a bathtub. The next few, he didn't really aim. Just so long as they splashed and bounced over the animals' heads. The last, he threw while already jumping over the terrace's fences.

Thus, strategy B: running like hell. And, he mused as he sprinted down the street with a veritable menagerie stampeding after him, he could not thank Juuno enough for giving him the physical boost needed to outspeed panthers, gazelles and the likes.

Ah, the joys of superheroism.

Now, the question was, where was he meant to guide all those brutally angry animals?

Or, it would be, had it not been for the elite task force gathered specifically to counter this particular akuma. Paon broke back into the main street with the beasts hot on his heels. “Hey, little help here!”

The officers in animal control uniform turned as one, a well-oiled machine.

“Ready...” shouted Officer Raincomprix.

They rose their rifle-like guns.

“Fire!”

Paon dropped to the ground on reflex. The volley of red dart flew well around him, on both sides and above his head. The next instant, he felt the ground tremble in rapid succession, likely the animals falling on their sides. Paon whirled.

Only the panther still struggled to remain standing, the dart on its side well-embedded while the feline's eyes slowly closed. With a pitiful mewl, the panther slumped down amongst the rest of the sleeping animals.

“Thank you, Officer!” he gave the forces of order a thumbs up.

“Thanks for gathering them in one place. That's at least a fourth of the really dangerous ones. Seen any lions or gorillas nearby?”

“Yeah, I got the lions to retreat from a civilian, but I didn't have time to catch them. They might still be around. Now, officer, this is really important. Do you have any idea where the akuma is _right now?_ ” He grabbed the officer's arm. “I was separated from Ladybug and Chat Noir, and then I heard the screaming in this part. But now that you're here I _really_ ought to go help them.”

Sabrina's father brought his two-way radio to his mouth and the static came to life. Paon ignored the ants climbing up his legs, and the urge to just take the high ground and try to find his partners.

The wise choice, in this case, as Officer Raincomprix nodded and pointed down the street. “Last I heard they were just at the entrance of the 21st district, near the Seine. Though, watch out, the akuma's turned into a T-Rex.”

Paon Bleu nearly facepalmed.

He'd just come out from that direction!

“Okay, I leave things here under your control, guys!” he shouted over his shoulders as he broke into a sprint.

He had to get his head in the game. Today's fight had been rookie mistakes after rookie mistakes. Did it bother him that much to have a rival for Ladybug's affection?

That did not need answering. He was biting his lips hard, the taste of blood just on the tip of his tongue. The words were etched in fire within his mind. At least... at least he had helped!

Paon almost slid to the ground when he turned around the corner, his speed nearly too great to compensate. There, Ladybug! She was just a few feet away from the akuma, her arm risen. He could still –

A wave of pink light washed over him and the rest of Paris.

Oh... he realized suddenly. _I've arrived just in time to see things be solved without me._

Paon Bleu had arrived too late. All that was left was him standing in the middle of the road, maybe three cars’ lengths away from the heroes that had saved the day. And for the first time since this threat had revealed itself to Paris, he hadn't been done anything of worth against the akuma.

It was like he had bitten into a rotten onion.

For a moment, he plainly didn't know what to do with himself. He just stared while the victim of the day realized Hawk Moth had trespassed on their soul and manipulated them for his own twisted goals. He remained awkwardly on the edge of the scene, until Ladybug half-turned, and noticed him standing.

“Paon!” Ladybug sounded relieved. “We couldn't find you. Are you okay?”

“I'm f-- argh, I am physically unhurt!” he screamed out in frustration. Now? Seriously?! NOW?!

She wouldn't be the Ladybug he loved if she could leave it at that. Concern shining in her eyes, she reached for him with one hand, but stopped short of touching him. “What do you mean by that, Birdie?”

His mouth answered before he could think about it. “I only fought a couple of maddened animals while you two did all the legwork in purifying the akuma. Why would I be hurt?”

Chat Noir looked like he wanted to disappear.

Ladybug blinked.

“Paon… Are you jealous?”

“N-no, I'm not.” Adrien's whole body went tense as a jolt of pain went through him. The shock sent him to his knees. “I… I mean...” He could _feel_ Juuno glaring even when he was fused to his costume. Air rushed out of his lungs. “Yes. A lot.”

Ladybug's eyes – dare he think it – _bugged_ out of her head.

The intruder looked like he wanted to be anywhere else in the world. Mostly. Paon didn't miss the small hints of pride in the newbie's posture.

_I was here first, catboy!_ Which he miraculously managed not to blurt out. But the thrums of his brooch against his chest grew a bit stronger, and Adrien looked away, heat flowing through his cheeks.

“Okay, I am not actually ready to air out all my bad thoughts right now,” he whispered. “Can we _not_ interrogate the guy that has a compulsion for telling the truth? Please?”

Shock flashed on Ladybug's face. Hurt, as well, but Adrien decided not to focus on that.

“You're right. That's not fair to you.” Ladybug took a deep breath, then smiled. With a tilt of her head, she hinted at his miraculous. “We shouldn't add to the stress, especially when we have so little time left to our transformations. We'll… talk about it later.”

Paon tried to swallow the bitter taste in his mouth and get a hold of the cold feeling running down his spine.

He marched right up to the newly-minted superhero, and raised his fist for him to pound. “Thank you, Chat Noir.”

The red-headed teenager, stared at the outstretched fist as if it was going to clock him. Right there, right in the face, after he had done everything to help defeat the akuma. Made to feel like he didn't belong.

Paon's stomach churn.

“T-thanks, Paon?” said Nathanaël after a weak hit.

The universe must have hated him, for Ladybug smiled at the red-head and pounded his fist with much more sincerity and gusto. “Birdie's right. You did great. I couldn't have done it without you.”

When Ladybug turned back, fist raised for her first partner to pound as well, she saw but the tail end of his scarves disappearing around the corner.

 

\--

 

Fun fact: Adrien Agreste could be a Grade-A jerk. Not that surprising, considering the legacy he had to live up to. In fact, perhaps love made all Agreste act like terrible persons. Genetics had to be the reason for the inner turmoil of churning anger, fear and jealousy currently weighing down on his mind.

That didn't make him less guilty.

“Why did it have to be Nathanaël?”

Why someone he knew and already felt bad for being humiliated in class due to Adrien's careless explosion at Chloé? Why not a proper stranger of whom he knew nothing and could imagine terrible motives for their actions?

“The Black Cat has always fallen in love with the Ladybug. It has always been this way,” Juuno said gravely.

It cut right through his anger like a hot knife, butter. “But… but _I_ love Ladybug!”

Juuno did not seem impressed, or convinced.

“I can only speak the truth, right?” He threw his arms in the air. “Well, the truth is I love Ladybug and I don't care about what Fate has to say about it.”

Because what was the magical power that turned battles around in the face of some patented Agreste Anger?

Neither of Adrien or Juuno mentioned that Adrien had spoken truthfully about opinions. Neither pointed out why Adrien had done so either. He would rather not find out this way. Not from some compulsion or the likes. Only one person had the right to reject his love for Ladybug, and that was Ladybug herself.

Unsure what to do with himself, Adrien poured his kwami a bowl of blueberries and turned on his internet browser. When in doubt, consult the Ladyblog. His personal motto.

Which, most time, served him fairly well. The good people of Paris generally cheered him up pretty well, if only by their kind and enthusiastic attitudes about Paon Bleu and his Princess. Not that Adrien felt a vicarious pleasure in hearing about himself being shipped with his favourite superheroine by total strangers or anything...

Juuno glared at him.

“...I was just thinking it!” Adrien protested, his face red with embarrassment.

The kwami plopped a blueberry in his mouth. “Oh yes, pretty hard.”

Adrien sputtered some more. How dare Juuno know his very thoughts? So what if he was deluding himself a bit and tried to be hypocritical? That was okay, right? Everyone else was doing it too.

A long sigh came out of his mouth. Right. Terrible defence.

His head a little clearer, Adrien began navigating Alya's personal pride and joy. At first, he kept to the general discussion forums. Nothing quite as good as reading about other people admiring his supreme leader Ladybug. Hearing people speculate on how many spots were on her costume made him blurt out 'about forty, give or take two'. People fangasming over her especially badass public appearances made him swoon a bit in his chair. She was everything they said, and more.

“You must be one of my most lovesick chicks so far, Adrien,” Juuno chirped, amused.

A bit of red came back to Adrien's face. “W-well, did other Paons have princesses even half as lovely as mine?”

The corners of Juuno's mouth quirked upward. “As it so happens, yes. Yes there were.”

Adrien pouted. He would have protested if he hadn't thought he would be getting magically tongue-tied all over again. And... well, memories of his fight with the Imposter came back to him. The fake Paon had sung Ladybug's praises endlessly without ever admitting the idea that she was human and flawed. Like he didn't know her at all. Ladybug was a great person, but he had to love her warts and all, else he had no right to claim having feelings for hers.

So, maybe that was the lovesickness at play when he swooned over his computer monitor. Maybe it was the source of his heating chest and the butterflies in his stomach. The desire to meet up with his Princess again and face Hawk Moth together as a pair.

...As a trio, he corrected an instant later.

His smile slipping a bit, Adrien decided to instead click on the links for the latest akuma reports. He shouldn't have.

Some people on the forums had decided they had found a new ship. A long thread had been started, with some responses growing increasingly fanatic.

_'They're perfect for each other! Good luck and Bad luck.'_

' _And think of their colour scheme! Like, she's red and black with black hair. He's black with red hair. They were literally made to be._ '

Adrien's smile progressively slipped, until his expression was but a blank mask. They were only comments. He needed not take them into consideration. People shipped the weirdest things. He should know. He had been a Naruto fan before the series had ended!

_'What?! You traitors! We were shipping Ladybug with Paon Bleu! Don't you remember his speech to her? That was so romantic!'_

Before he could rejoice at the sudden appearance of sanity in this demented world, he caught sight of the next reply. And his stomach sank.

_'Actually, where was Paon today? He's always there, normally._ '

“I was trying to protect people from mad wild animals,” he gritted through his teeth. 

' _Paon Bleu? Oh yeah, he was. Like, I bet he probably wished he hadn't shown though. Wow, you haven't seen the videos yet, have you?_ '

The indignation he had felt fizzled in his chest. Adrien felt his dismay tie a knot in his throat. There was a link in the comment. Despite himself, he moved his cursor over the link and clicked. 

He read the title and knew he would hate this. No video titled 'HERO FAIL' could lead to good things. 

Obviously, it started with some dude walking near the Seine for his vlog. Adrien could almost believe it wouldn't be a complete disaster, but six seconds into the video, some people near the vlogger screamed to look out. The phone swirled around toward the cloudy sky over the Parisian river.

“Aw, come on...” Adrien moaned.

The shaking camera followed the growing image of a blue and yellow teenager, crossing through the air, aiming for the hawk. A masculine voice grunted 'come on come on' over the video, as if the speaker had been just behind the phone. With another jerk of the image, the camera zoomed on the young superhero's face right as he tried to grab the malevolent hawk.

Adrien got a perfect shot of his alter ego's eyes widening and a silent curse being mouthed as the bird changed trajectory. At the very least, Paon Bleu could claim impressive reflexes at the way his right arm shot after the hawk and pulled a tail feather.

The boy in his chair winced as he remembered the feeling of cold and sliminess that accompanied an impromptu bath in the Seine. On the screen, Paon Bleu disappeared under the railing, his painful ungracious dive at least hidden by the railing.

“Paon!” screamed someone nearby. A woman in her twenties leaned over the stone railing, her brown hair falling on both sides of her head.

A man with short cropped hair rushed to her and pulled her away, one hand pointing to the hawk circling in the sky. “The akuma, Geneviève! We have to run!”

Genevieve's friend – lover? – seemed to have struck a nerve in the cameraman's mind, as the image swerved and turned to the pavement before going black. The player had reached the end of the video.

That was it. All of it. Just him falling in the water.

Rewind.

Play.

The superhero on the screen flailed, desperately trying to grasp the bird as it took a sharp turn left.

Rewind.

Play.

“Adrien...” Juuno floated into view. “You shouldn't be watching that. It was a simple mistake.”

“But look at what people are saying! I mean, it's all 'LOL' and 'Faaaaaaaaaaaail' and witty one-liner about my inability to aim a jump! I look like an idiot! All of Paris has to be mocking me.”

“One mistake, Adrien.” Little blue arms lifted his chin and forced him to look into Juuno's eyes. “Remember what you told Ladybug. You two are going to make mistakes together. That doesn't change just because there's a third member in your team. I can guarantee that Ladybug knows that.”

To Juuno's credit, it _almost_ worked.

But the replay hadn't been paused.

“Paon Bleu!”

“The akuma, Geneviève! We have to run!”

The window closed itself. Blinking, Adrien glanced right and saw Juuno still perched on top of his computer's mouse. The kwami was frowning. 

“Adrien. That video means nothing in the long run.” Juuno took off, floating till he was resting on Adrien head. Soon, Adrien felt his friend's soothing touch untangle the knots left in his hair. “Think of it... think of it as a funny video of people tripping over. It is the sort of things that happen to anyone. You did good today, even if you weren't fighting the akuma directly.” 

Adrien wanted to agree. 

He had helped! He hadn't been around the final showdown for that akuma, but, but he had been saving people! The mother with the lions, Sabrina and the crocodiles, the panther, the freaking panther! He hadn't been twiddling around, doing nothing! Juuno was right. So what if some people didn't know he was doing better? So what if they thought he wasn't... if... what if they thought he couldn't do anything right? 

“Adrien...” Juuno called, but this time, Adrien did not really hear him. His ears were ringing with the realization. Ladybug would see the video too. Marinette had to be curious about what Paon Bleu had been up to during the battle. She would see him completely miss his target like an idiot.

How could he ever compare to her fated love then?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our poor summer child. Destiny is either really cruel, or Master Fu royally screwed up his choices here.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the one hand, he likely wouldn't have found out what was going on without access to the Ladyblog. On the other, it was kind of nuts that she was using her own abduction as an opportunity to interview the villain. Her abduction that had begun by her eagerness to jump in the fray for a good scoop. At this point, he suspected that she had done it on purpose.

Apparently, Nino and Alya were dating now.

Yes, that had happened. That was a thing. After all his efforts to be a good friend and not a giant jerk, Nino had somehow fallen for Alya in the span of one akuma-triggered imprisonment inside a zoo's cage. In less than one afternoon. Adrien was both terribly relieved and **incredibly** envious.

And slightly annoyed. Just a _tad_.

He had not hallucinated seeing the truth linger around Nino. That much was certain. He had also seen it when his best friend had given a quick kiss to Alya's cheek. So what was it? Did he love both of them but had decided to go for Alya in the end?

No, wait, when he had told Marinette, Nino had appeared covered in a mostly blue hue with only traces of green.

His miraculous better be needing a repair on top of everything else!

Adrien sighed, absentmindedly rubbing the birthday scarf he had chosen to wear today. The fabric felt so soft under his fingers. He could imagine his Princess lavishly working on it, sitting behind a sewing machine.

A faint blush had coloured her cheeks when he had entered the class with the scarf around his neck. It had put a little balm around his heart. They had exchanged shy, discreet smiles as Adrien had taken his seat at the front. Her eyes, he would bet, had not left the gift he was finally wearing. Normal, of course, if one considered she finally received some well-earned appreciation for her work.

It... it may well pay for the pain of Nathalie's lie. So, Father had finally just not bought him a present at all, instead of pretending. Not a big leap from the last few years. But... a homemade present by one of his friends?

That... that was one of the things he never had before. And that scarf, it was from the girl he loved. He could go into the blizzard with nothing but that on his back, and he would still feel warm.

“Dude, you really like Marinette's present, huh?” Nino asked from his left.

Fished out of the tranquil waters of his daydreaming, Adrien blinked and turned toward his friend to say a very intelligent “huh? What?”

His best friend chuckled, then pointed at the fabric around his neck. “I said, Marinette's scarf, you dig it, don't you?”

Adrien could not stop himself from raising one perfectly trimmed eyebrow in an annoyingly picture perfect image of confused deadpan. “Well, yes, of course. It's well-made and comfortable. What's not to love about it?”

Nino grinned and placed his hands in front of him. “Hey, don't get defensive. I was just asking.”

He had not finished his explanation that he had taken a deep blue shade. The likes of which Adrien had rarely seen in Nino, the only exception being the excuses he had given Mrs. Bustier for his lack of completed homework last Thursday. Well, that just rang the alarms in Adrien's head, didn't it?

Alya, seated just before her new boyfriend, looked too entirely pleased with Adrien's response for this to have been natural.

_What are they up to?_

“I'm not getting defensive,” he said, still musing over the likely evil things planned by the newly minted couple. “I just sincerely think that Marinette's gift really suits me.”

“You know,” Alya suddenly said, “I agree that a blue scarf looks good on you, Adrien. You really rock that look.”

Why did he feel like a slab of meat being dangled over a fishtank full of sharks?

“It's the funniest thing,” she continued, pretending to look through her phone. “There's another good looking dude running around Paris with a blue scarf these days. What was his name again?”

And now, the slab of meat had been joyfully dumped inside the shark-infested waters. It was lucky his Father had spent years emotionally draining him of all human's reactions, because Adrien managed to keep on a bland if convincing smile on his face while he screamed internally.

“Good looking?” Nino cried out with no small amount of jealousy. “Alya, babe, you don't know that. He wears a mask. He could be hideous!”

 _Thanks, Nino._ Which Adrien meant half sincerely. It knocked him out of his daze, whilst distracting Alya and Marinette for a few precious seconds.

“Nino, my reporter instincts tell me the guy is not at all bothered by his physical appearance. He struts like a peacock half the damn time.”

Adrien opened his mouth to protest, but alas, _he could not lie_.

Thus, it was his Princess that charitably took pity on him without knowing. “Alya, he does not strut!” She even seemed angry for a second, before it gave way to a mischievous smile. “It's more of a stride, really. How does he do it again? Ah, yes, of course.”

Marinette swirled her hand under her chin, then lifted her nose with a confident smile that transformed her face. For a split second, she was all Ladybug, and it went straight to Adrien's knees.

“Keep your chin way up above the good citizens of Paris, show how well trimmed your nose is, then walk as if you have more hips than Shakira.”

“Hey,” Adrien jumped in, frowning, “those hips don't lie.”

Three jaws dropped simultaneously. One could hear a pin drop in that thick of a silence. For a second, Adrien wondered who would ever dare break a silence as judgemental as this one.

Thus, like all good things, it came at the hands of a friend, one that was suffering quite a great deal.

“Duuuuuuude,” groaned Nino.

“Adrien, no,” Alya grunted.

“Adrien, yes!” he whooped.

Marinette facepalmed. The 'whack' resonated in the near empty classroom.

He kept on his proud grin, just knowing that despite their lack of faith, it had been funny. No amount of judging would change that. In fact, he stared at them all, who all stared at each other, stone-faced.

They cracked the very next second. Marinette giggled, then slammed her hands over her mouth, eyes wider than a deer in headlight. Nino poorly concealed a snort, then a snicker, until he was laughing and hitting the table with his fist, bringing down Alya, Marinette and finally Adrien with him. They laughed so hard the tears rolled on their cheeks.

Yet, as Nino and him laughed harder, Marinette's gaze happened to meet his. Her laughter cut short with a squeak that was just plainly adorable and her face turned crimson. She settled into silence, stifling stray giggles while Adrien simply could not stop snickering.

Their small group settled back with a collective sigh of relief. The first gulp of air they took felt divine now.

“Damn, I can't believe we got so off-track for a moment. God, my ribs hurt.” Alya wiped a tear from her eyes, which then immediately narrowed on Adrien. “Don't think I haven't noticed what you're doing there, pretty boy.”

He was in too good a mood to be worried now. The euphoria hadn't worn off, clearly. “Geez, Alya, the easier thing to do would be to _ask_ me. Paon Bleu can't lie, right?”

“No, but he is a bit cheeky about what truth he tells,” she immediately replied, no doubt thinking about one or two interviews where Adrien had been very precise or very vague about his answers.

Grinning at this point would be a fatal mistake. But Adrien was very tempted. Funny how that worked. The one thing he could lie about, and he almost wanted to be honest about it. Juuno must have been rubbing off on him.

“Here, Alya, I'll make it easy for you,” he said, keeping up a bemused smile. “I am not Paon Bleu.”

He heard Marinette's breath suddenly hitch, and he glanced at her in the corner of his eyes. He couldn't read the emotion on her face, but she mulled over what he just said as if conflicted.

“I'm not convinced,” Alya mumbled, eyes narrowed. “I swear, you're giving off the same vibe as him.”

Marinette's hand slammed into her desk, startling them all into full attention. “Alya, that's ridiculous. Adrien is allergic to feathers! There are some on his mask. He couldn't _be_ Paon Bleu without sneezing continuously.”

“Mari has a point, babe,” Nino added. “I've seen my dude sneeze up a storm once because a pigeon had landed in front of us.”

Magic was very convenient indeed.

With a long sigh, Alya leaned back into her seat and looked to the ceiling. “Fine, I guess it's possible that Adrien 'never photoshopped' Agreste is not Paon Bleu.”

Adrien might have imagined the sigh of relief that came out of his backpack. Juuno would never be so reckless as to make noise at this time, right? Just in case though, he angled himself a bit more to the left to hide his bag from Alya's sight.

“What about the new guy then? Chat Noir?” Alya smoothly changed the subject, nudging Marinette for her input. “Come on, you know there is only so many redheads in the school.”

Like Nino's and Marinette's, Adrien's eyes flicked to the back of the class, where one such boy sat down on his own. Unlike them though, he knew what to look for.

Surely enough, there was a silver ring on Nathanaël's left hand index. Exactly the same finger as Chat Noir's miraculous. He wanted to say that it wasn't enough to suspect his classmate, but...

_Chat Noir loves Ladybug. It was always so._

Hadn't Nathanaël had his feelings for the superheroine exposed pretty thoroughly already? Well, Marinette, but it was the same thing, wasn't it? The boy had a headstart when it came to other, more clueless Chat Noirs.

“That doesn't mean anything, Alya. Paon's hair is neon blue! I am ninety percent sure that the miraculous changes his appearance. It could be the same for Chat Noir. Besides, who says he goes to our school? There are other in Paris, you know?”

“Girl, I already showed you my timetable analysis, don't make me get it out again. I am positive that Ladybug must come to our school.” Alya pointed somewhat menacingly at Marinette, who immediately raised her hands in mock – maybe? – surrender. “But yeah, okay, I can see why it would be magic dye for Paon, but Chat Noir? Why would it be red? Why not black if it's going to be changed at all?”

“To throw people off his tracks!”

Hmmm, now that he thought about it, maybe her vehemence that miraculous always changed people's hair might have another reason behind it. A grin crept up on his face.

_Not feeling like changing your hairstyle, Princess?_

Or maybe she was just trying to protect Chat Noir.

“Dude, are you okay?”

Adrien blinked out of his daydreaming, and turned to see Nino look at him with concern in his eyes. “Y-yeah, why do you ask?”

“'Cause you just broke your pen in half.”

Adrien looked down, suddenly aware of the feeling of room temperature liquid dripping all over his hand. His ballpoint pen laid crushed, one half pitifully hanging between his finger while the other toppled over and bounced down on his desk. It used to be his favourite pen too.

With a groan, Adrien let his forehead meet his desk. Behind him, Marinette squeaked in surprise at the loud 'thud' noise.

 

\--

 

Paon Bleu rolled from his landing into a kneeling position with what he was certain must have looked like ethereal grace. Anything to impress Ladybug. And these days, he rather felt the urge to do so at the most minute occasions. Meeting her on top of Notre-Dame for their weekly patrol was just one of the few opportunities he had.

“Rise,” Ladybug said – according to the knightly tradition Adrien liked to insist on sometimes –, but it came out shaken.

He sprang to his feet, looking her straight in the eyes. “Princess?”

Her smile was soft, but it could not hide the unease in her gaze.

Paon hid a grimace. He hated to see that kind of look on his sweet team leader's face, lest so because of him. Now nervous, he tugged a bit at his scarf and glanced around. Then, he noticed what he should have right away.

“Is Chat Noir here?”

Ladybug took a few steps toward the nearest gargoyle, gazing on the city stretching in front of them. “Not yet. I gave him a slightly later time to arrive. It's just us for at least a few more minutes.”

Just the two of them...

Paon's heartbeat spiked. He reviewed every word he had said the last time they worked together. The poor note on which he had left them both. Ladybug had yet to look back to him, maybe... maybe he could give her the slip – and make everything worse for himself.

His voice unsteady, he asked, “Why?”

“Because I'm not an expert when it comes to feelings, but I know it's probably harder for you to speak about your jealousy with the guy you're feeling jealous of.”

Paon's eyebrows rose behind his mask. _Instead, I'll speak with the person I'm jealous_ about _. Much better._ The unfair thought didn't reach Ladybug however, and she finally looked back to him in full, her eyes searching for an answer he didn't think he could give.

“You've been... off during the last two akuma attacks. You're reckless...” – she seemed to think better of it – “well, more reckless than usual, Birdie. You rush into things without thinking, it feels as if you don't care about how you might be hurt and I'm getting worried.”

“It's not...” He had to pause and think of what he meant to say. He couldn't blurt out his thoughts in a panic, as his mouth just stopped working when he tried. “I don't want you to worry.”

The Truth, but also the wrong thing to say.

“Then why, Paon?” she cried out. “I can't no worry when I see my partner looking sick in his own skin. I can't not worry when you tell me you're jealous and then disappear before we can talk. Why are you acting this way? Don't you know I trust you?!”

“I have to prove myself,” someone said. Adrien's shock reeled through him. Blood drained from his face. “J-JUUNO!”

He made to grasp the treacherous brooch when he was suddenly pinned into place by two slender arms. For a split second, he saw naught but the ends of her pig tails, felt naught but the press of her suit against his own. A scent like vanilla and cinnamon tickled his nose, and he felt heat pool around his chest. She... Marinette was hugging him.

_Oh. Huh. Can you do that again, Juuno?_

Why did he have a feeling that his kwami would be cheeky about this later? Always be honest, indeed!

But then, Ladybug extricated herself from the embrace and looked upon him with wet eyes. “Paon. I know… I know some people aren't always kind to you. On the Internet. Or on TV. In the street. Whatever. They think that because you don't have a special power, you are not important. But they're _wrong,_ ” she said with staggering conviction.

Even armed with actual truth-telling powers, he would not have been able to move her on that, and his heart skipped a beat at the realization. Like a whisper in his ears, like Juuno's humming when he made Adrien's hair into a nest. Like flickers of green mixing with her bluebell eyes.

He might fall in love with that sight. “Are they?” he croaked. “You saw the video, didn't you? I could have handled that jump better...”

“And I'm guessing you didn't see the one where you wrestled with the lionesses,” she bit back, looking on the verge of scolding him. “Birdie. Paon, I... I was actually scared when I saw that.”

Paon burst out laughing. It was completely inappropriate, but at this exact moment, that literal second, the double standard smacked him in the face. “You? _You_ were scared for _me_?” He pointed an accusing finger to his frowning partner. “Oh, excuse me, Madam I-jump-in-a-T-Rex's-mouth. What was that? An assassination attempt on your poor fans?”

Ladybug looked torn between amusement, smugness and embarrassment. “W-well, it worked. I totally jumped in a T-Rex's mouth to save the day. I'd do it again.”

Paon felt the overwhelming urge to kneel again, and maybe take her hand and kiss it. His Princess. All her, in just a few short words. It was enough to make him blush a bit, but at least he remained standing.

“If it comes down to that, then I'll have already failed at my job. But, yeah, I guess you'll save the day no matter what, huh, Princess?”

She did not take his mocking tone of voice with any offence. Rather, she seemed triumphant. “See? There's the reason those people are wrong. You are my partner. The person that believed in me when no one else even had a reason to! I…” She grew quiet, her words nearly a whisper lost to the winds. “You will always be important to me. Always.”

“The feeling is mutual, Princess.” He gently took her hands in his, wishing he could feel the texture of her skin rather than that of her suit. “Always and forever, I will come when you call.”

Red began to stretch over her skin beyond the confines of her suit. She had paused, nearly frozen, almost not breathing. And she said in a whisper “Paon.”

Said his name in a breath that was tender and confused. Longing and questioning. There was a promise in the way she said his name. Always. Forever. Until his last breath, he would never renege on his pledge. The peacock kept his promises.

They were so close her breath tickled his lips, and he suddenly wondered if hers tasted like the mint on her breath. The idea surged through him violently, filling his senses with hints of her, with the shine of sunset mixed in the blue of her gaze, with the silk of her black hair. Her. Ladybug. Marinette. His Princess.

Always. Forever.

_Tell her._

“Princess, I…” he started, but found no word moving past his lips. For a split second, he panicked, thinking of Juuno's ban on lies. But it did not hit him as if he were in pain, on the verge of falling over the edge of a precipice. It was just normal hesitation, a teenager's anxiety about confessing his feelings.

Its hold on him was just as strong. He had so many things to say, fighting to push past his lips and into the air between him and his love. He wanted to sing her praise and shout over the rooftops and sit quietly by her side with his head resting against hers. He wanted to say “I love you”, over and over.

He wanted to hear it.

“ _I love you, Adrien.”_ Those words. Just once. A thousand times.

And the burning desire shrivelled up as a wave of shame crashed on his mind. _Adrien._ In his daydreams, he could sit by Marinette's side under a tree and share a sunny day together. Two teenagers that loved each other simply. Two teenagers that knew one another. That knew each other's names.

Not two superheroes that wouldn't know each other in a crowd.

It wasn't fair. He couldn't ask her to only love a mask when he knew the whole of her.

Now more than ever, he felt the desire to rip off his mask and show her. To trust her with his whole life, no secret. To tell her he was sitting in front of her every day and loved that she had a mean sense of duty and a questionable grasp on the notion of being on time.

She didn't want to know. Did she?

“Ladybug,” he started, voice thick and trembling. What if she was offended by his question? What if she found him intrusive, nosy, presumptuous? “About our secret identities...”

Something like fear flashed in her eyes, and Adrien tensed. No, no, no, why had he even thought about that?! He had no right! No right at all to even think about that!

He already knew hers, didn't he? And...

A pair of boots touched down on the stone nearby. Ladybug and Paon jumped away from each other like a pair of misbehaving teenagers caught red-handed.

As it happened, the other superhero whose secret identity Adrien knew of took one look at them both and shrunk on himself.

“Oh, huh, hey?” Chat Noir fidgeted in place, looking as if he was debating running to hid under a rock. “Sorry I'm early. I just thought it would be a good idea to... show up early.” He laughed awkwardly, unable to hide his cringing. “You know, show I'm serious and really want to be a good teammate. Haha, wow, that did not work out well... should have known Ladybug had given me that time for a reason... and I'm rambling. God, I'm sorry!”

And through it all, Chat Noir's aura had grown progressively greener and enlightened.

Perhaps that was a bit mean, but Paon had to hide his smile behind his glove. Of course, his heart went to his teammate. Nothing quite like apparently interrupting a moment between his idols and looking exactly like the third wheel kid that just ended up being a bother.

“Chat Noir, you don't need to apologize for trying to be responsible.” _Or for being eager to please. If that was a sin, then I earned my corner of Hell, nice and burning._ “It's nice to see you.”

Judging by the slightly shocked look on his partners' faces, they felt in ways similar to him.

“R-really?” Chat Noir asked, a faint flush of red on his cheeks, a smile threatening to break out. “You mean that?”

“When do I ever say something I don't mean?” He crooned a bit, puffing up, hoping his heartbeat would go back to normal soon. “I'm always honest.”

Ladybug, who had been trying to use the distraction to regain her composure, suddenly snorted. A frown nearly threatened to broke onto his face until his mind flashed back to their classroom together. Paon looked down at himself, and yes, he could admit his confident body language resembled a supermodel's on a catwalk.

Making his way over to her, Paon took extra care to wiggle his hips this time, grinning wider and wider as his Princess fell prey to progressively less hidden snickers.

“A problem, oh supreme leader?” he asked, the very model of politeness.

“N-no...” she said in a high pitched voice, with the very last air in her lungs, “none.”

Chat Noir scratched his hair, smiling though he seemed a little uneasy. “I missed something, didn't I?”

His voice seemed to bring Ladybug back from the brink of her incessant laughing. Within second, she had managed to stand tall, solid as steel and smirking at Paon in a way that made his knees weak. Her gaze lingered on him for but a heartbeat before she turned to Chat Noir. “Yes. But no worries, this is the time to catch up. Tonight's going to be a patrol, our first one as a trio.”

Paon did his very best not to let his mood sour. He'd say he succeeded, standing on the ball of his feet, arms crossed behind his back, and still grinning wide. “So, supreme leader, princess, my lady in red and black, where do we go from here?”

“The usual,” she said with a confident smile, “Chat Noir, it's time we show you off to Paris.”

 

\--

 

Today was a rarity. A Saturday morning to himself. Even better, a surprise Saturday morning to himself, to laze in bed for a few more hours and then surf on the web with his computer instead of pretending he had eaten his mother's spaghetti in front of a camera (seriously, what was up with that photographer's instructions?). One might have thought his father would have forbidden such requests, or at least pass Nathalie a note about it. Then again, Adrien had never eaten his mother's cooking. It had always been a private chef's.

Adrien shook his head. Apparently, lazy mornings did not help him think coherently.

Crouching in his chair in a way entirely opposite to what his doctor, chiropractor and nurse prescribed, Adrien opened the familiar link of the Ladyblog. He truly ought to compliment Alya's on her choice of music for her website.

_Miraculous, the luckiest, the power of love always so strong._

“So catchy,” he said to himself.

Half-grinning already, Adrien clicked on the newest link, a video thread that had already racked up a massive number of comments. His heartbeat quickened. There were only so many topics that could get Alya's followers to go wild like that.

The video began as countless others, with investigative reporting and speculation, right up until the point Alya gasped and raised her phone to the air. The camera captured the wild sight of an helicopter pulling Ladybug through the air, and something falling from the sky. Adrien's eyes bugged out of his skull as Alya ran to the fallen object, and lifted up a familiar book.

“This here is not just any ordinary book. It's a history book. A tenth grade history book. I would know, because I own that very same edition myself! Could our very own Ladybug be a teenager?”

It was as if something in his mind had changed, as if his memories and thoughts shifted. He could see Marinette more clearly in Ladybug. The contours of her face, the shape of her confident smile, the laughter in her eyes… They were clearly hers, without even a hint of magic to hide it.

It didn't change his knowledge, but it did make it easier. Like seeing it with a clarity Paon Bleu alone used to have. The feeling was foreign, uneasy. He much preferred the clarity of Paon Bleu's eyesight to the muddied veil of the miraculous' glamours. How many people had now felt this way just looking at Ladybug and the history book falling to the sidewalk?

“Wait,” he said, “where did Marinette keep her book while transformed?”

Juuno grunted irritably. “Forget that. There is a much bigger problem at hands. Your friend has no idea what she's done.”

Ah, so that nagging feeling at the back of his head hadn't been imagined after all. “Right. Okay. Well, as it so happens, neither do I. What did Alya do that was so bad? Or how? There was magic involved, right?”

“Think about it, Adrien. You should know this. The Truth breaks glamours. By telling so many people about Ladybug's probable age, with what can be considered _proof_ , she permanently weakened part of Ladybug's glamour. People will be able to tell that she is a teenager now.”

Alarm bells started ringing in his ears, and Adrien fought the urge to cringe. “Oh. That's bad. Sure. Narrows it down a bit, but even then she'd still be protected by the magic, right?” he asked with a hopeful yet unconvincing smile.

The kwami shook his head, a rare hint of annoyance showing on his face. “You are not grasping the situation at all. Adrien, _your_ glamour will be weakened.”

Blood drained from his face. “Does that mean Father might…?”

Juuno cut in. “Perhaps,” the kwami said, one arm raised to ask for silence. “It would be surprising if he saw through your disguise with just that detail. Nathalie has been lying to cover for you quite a bit.”

Adrien snorted. “Yeah. Sure.”

Juuno did not say anything. It started to _sink in_. Adrien span on his chair and gave his kwami a bewildered look.

“Wait, you think… come on, it's Nathalie.” He gestured wildly, as if the sheer fact that it was his father's assistant was a compelling argument in itself. “Her surname literally means heartless.”

“I never joke, Adrien. It is true she is concerned about her job. But that does not mean she is not thinking about you.” Juuno had a patient look on his face. Somehow, that detail made Adrien's face heat up in shame. _Like a kid needing to be told an obvious truth._ “Despite what would be tempting to believe, it is possible to have more than one reasons for your actions, both self-serving and selfless. Nathalie lies to your father about your place at her sides during akuma attacks outside of school, in part, yes, to keep her job, but also because she knows what will happen if your father would think you had a chance of being endangered.”

Adrien's hands and head suddenly felt so heavy. Yes, Father would have an aneurysm at the very least if he ever got wind of Adrien's actual actions during akuma attacks. Then, when he recovered from his hospital stay, he would chain Adrien to a block and hid him inside a tower guarded by his very own personal dragon.

He... ah... he hadn't given Nathalie her due credit, had he?

“So, not just to save her own skin, huh?” he asked, trying not to think _'that I endanger every time I go out unsupervised'._ The guilt made him feel small.

“A bit like you and superheroism, Adrien.” Juuno nodded. “You like the freedom, but you also want to help people. You are not a bad person simply because you see perks to your superpowers either. What you do with them is as important as why you do it in the first place. I would say, Nathalie has some compassion for you.”

He remembered her eyes. A hint of softness, and her voice, like a breath she hadn't meant to let go of. Words, the only ones that had been told to a mourning boy that lived all alone. _“Your father prefers grieving on his own time.”_

 _I'm buying Nathalie a gift._ An apology and a thank you wrapped in one. Something nice. Sweet. What did Nathalie even like? Schedules? Technically, that was probably more of a job requirement than an actual interest.

“Juuno, what gift would Nathalie love?”

The kwami did not miss a beat. “A day off and an all-paid trip to a massage parlour. The muscles in her back are a bit tense and her neck sometimes feels a bit sore in the morning. She wouldn't hate a good bottle of wine either.”

Adrien opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “How... no, I'm not going to ask. Are you sure she would like it?”

“I do not lie, Adrien.” Something playful appeared in Juuno's smile. “I am also never mistaken on such things. It's the Truth.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, pretending to be cowed, “spare me the lecture on the inevitability of Life and the value of never lying. I only need to find a good offer, preferably close by. Father definitely would not let her have a vacation for more than a day or two if he ever would. Know any good one in Paris?”

Juuno plopped a blueberry in his mouth. “I haven't personally visited any. But I could suggest some that have affordable prices.”

Adrien chuckled. “Huh, yeah, don't worry about prices, Juuno.” He opened a new tab on his browser and typed in 'massage in Paris' in the search bar. “I am absolutely certain that I can afford any of them. Honestly, they might even give me a discount, what's with being a famous model and all.”

Just as he moved his mouse over a promising link, Adrien saw Juuno sit on the edge of his computer's screen. The peacock spirit fluffed up his feathers. “Certainly, but how are you going to buy them? Did you intend to ask Nathalie to drive you to the place you would buy her a present? Or were you planning on taking to the rooftops as Paon and attempt not to explain how you got there in the first place?”

Adrien's mouth opened, then closed. It would be lying to say he hadn't thought of simply dropping by the parlour as Paon Bleu, change back and purchase a day's worth of treatment. Not that he was looking for excuses to run and jump all over Paris like a blue super ball.

“Oh, huh.” A blush warmed his face. “Well, this one accepts Internet payment. Problem solved.”

Juuno stared, blinking. “I had not realized this was possible... Humans are improving faster than I remembered. Then again, I shouldn't be surprised, considering all the phones you children have.”

Adrien hid his mouth behind his hand, but that could not block out the noise of his snickering. “You sound like an old man, Juuno!”

The kwami huffed, seemingly offended. “I am much older than the oldest man you know! I was already old when language was first invented!”

Something like a chill ran down Adrien's spine. Not fear, but a primal thing, an instinct buried deep down within the modern man. Yes, Juuno had forgotten or ignored the progress of mankind in terms of technology during the last decade or so. Ten years, two thirds of Adrien's life, and a short nap for his kwami. What was a kwami's lifespan then? Was there even one?

He slipped a hand into his vest pockets and pulled out his most precious belonging. How long had Juuno been bound to it? He slept the days away without a chosen, didn't he? But what would happen if the brooch broke? Was it even possible?

“Was it always a brooch like this?” Adrien stared at the faint outline of peacock eyes on the piece of jewelry. Even asking that, he knew it couldn't. At least seven sacred jewelries, each holding great powers... there would be mentions of them all over the history books. “Your miraculous. Has it been this way for millennia?”

“No. My miraculous was different, as were those of my kin. But mine changed most drastically.”

The moment of levity faded. Juuno lost his smile, his gaze heavy, his arms still holding a blueberry right in front of him. He did not look up from his snack.

“I changed. The early peacocks never hid. The Blue Peacock was a public title for some, a responsibility for others, but it was never a secret.”

Adrien rubbed the tip of his nose, as if fighting the ghostly itch of a mask that wasn't there. A public title? Would he have accepted that? If he could not hide from the rest of the world, would he have still accepted Juuno's offer for power? A memory of his father flashed to the front of his mind, and he flinched. “What made you change, Juuno?”

“Human civilizations changed.” Distant memories seemed to blur in Juuno's eyes as his gaze lost focus. His voice trembled. “It is in the nature of humans too, Adrien. You all chase something. Poor Wayzz has to wait so much longer than the rest of us to find a suitable chosen. The Truth, my little chick, is that humanity as a whole lives by the principle of Nooroo as much as any other.”

Adrien frowned. “I'm not sure I understand.”

“'The Peacock can safely operate without a secret identity.' used to be a true statement.” Juuno floated down from the monitor, the blueberry he held falling and bouncing on the desk. The kwami made no move to pick it up. “But that was the past, little chick. The Butterfly lives. The Truth became Lies. And there, my foolishness was laid bare for all my kind to see.”

Adrien cupped his hands together. Juuno let himself fall.

“They died,” he whispered, as if it were a shameful thing. “My little chicks died more often than other chosens because I did not let them keep that one secret.”

It took all of Adrien's efforts not to tense. His mind felt torn in half. The compulsion thrummed in his chest, most strongly under his skin where his brooch lay against. The pulse was always there, a little reminder, and a power ready to unleash every time he opened his mouth. And now his tongue felt stuck to his palate with fear. What had it been like for those ancient peacocks? To know their demise at hands and being unable to say anything in their defences.

Torn, however, because he heard regrets and sorrow ringing from Juuno's voice, and the soft green aura never stronger around the kwami. Because he changed.

“I let them now. It took Tikki and Nooroo and Vixx to convince me, but I let go of that fragment of me and my chicks live longer now. I do not regret it. Not in the slightest.”

Tears rolled down the kwami's eyes. Adrien's breath caught in his throat. He... his kwami shouldn't cry. That was wrong. For the one that brought him so much joy, that... that had opened up the doors of Adrien's world, that had pulled off the veil of lies...

Adrien carefully brought Juuno up to his chest, held him over his heart, over the pocket where the brooch lay.

“I promise to be careful, Juuno. I won't be like those chicks you lost, okay? It's not good, but it could be worse.” He pulled back enough for his kwami to float up to eye level. No more displays of sadness there but the faint hints of a brave front. Adrien smiled shyly, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Heck, I'm still not sure how this could be linked back to me. Shouldn't we be a bit more concerned that people might look at Ladybug?”

“People will look at Ladybug _and_ think that if she's a teenager and Paon keeps flirting with her, then he must be a teenager too. Those with particularly strong perception might ask about Chat Noir too.”

Oh. Yeah, he could see how that would be a problem.

“Right. It's too late to stop flirting though.” _And I wouldn't want to._

Juuno shot him a sceptical smile. “Nevertheless, I want you to be very careful around that Alya girl. Protect your identity. Keep your glamour strong. She might not mean to, but if she keeps this up, she might be the downfall of Ladybug.”

 

\--

 

Of Ladybug, or of herself, if the current status as a possible human sacrifice was anything to go by. On the one hand, he likely wouldn't have found out what was going on without access to the Ladyblog. On the other, it was kind of nuts that she was using her own abduction as an opportunity to interview the villain. Her abduction that had begun by her eagerness to jump in the fray for a good scoop. At this point, he suspected that she had done it on purpose.

And then, that fearsome train of thoughts had been cut short by another, just as bewildering realization.

“Wait, you... you can connect to the Internet?” he stuttered at Ladybug and Chat Noir. “How? Those are magical artifacts!”

Ladybug picked herself up from where she had stumbled out of the time bubble, accepting Chat Noir's hand. The two shared a look, opened their mouths to explain, only to realize that they didn't quite know either. Their mouths clamped shut in unison.

“Magic?” Ladybug's lips pinched. “I never asked how it worked before.”

Chat Noir raised a single claw like one wanting to ask a question. “You mean you don't have a com–... _oh_ , no weapon, right?”

Ladybug frowned, as if bothered by that idea. Paon Bleu tried not to think about what that could mean. “That doesn't mean Paon can't have a communicator.”

The lack of weapon hadn't really been a sore point before. He hadn't needed one yet, his fists and boots perfectly serviceable when it came to weaponry. Juuno had said his peacocks weren't fighters in the first place. The idea that he couldn't communicate with his Princess – and Chat Noir – hurt though. So, he crossed his arms, trying not to let it show. “I don't know,” he said, which tingled the hair on the back of his neck. It felt like Juuno wanted him to say something else. “I mean... do I? Ask me.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir exchanged cautious look.

She cleared her throat. “Well, Birdie, do you have a communicator?”

The compulsion flared to life and Adrien let it take over. “...It's in my mask.”

Of the three, Paon Bleu had to be the most surprised. _What?!_ How did he not know that before?! For a second, he stared at his own gloved hands, unable to quite keep the feeling of betrayal at bay. He _had_ a communicator too?

His fingers began tapping all over his ornamented mask, feeling for one of the gems, a button or an alcove of sort that could trigger this magical link to the Internet and his partners.

He jumped when two red and black fingers snapped inches away from his right eyes.

“Well, that has to wait,” Ladybug said before turning toward the end of the exhibit. “Chat, Paon, follow my lead.”

They did. The three of them ran through the Egyptian artifacts, vaulting and sliding under the various priceless art pieces. Amusingly enough, Paon knew he saw Chat Noir's eyes linger on a few paintings they dashed past. Ever the artist, their cat.

“He's in the courtyard!” Ladybug told them as she slammed into an emergency exit.

They stumbled after her, and touched down into the courtyard, the glass pyramid visible a few hundred meters away. Of course, they weren't alone.

Mummies. He should have known.

Adrien was disappointed in himself for not seeing this coming. It was a classic!

Also, very freaky from up close. The faceless heads seemed to be trying to stare through his head behind the ancient bandages. It was wrong. Freakish, yes, but a feeling of wrongness lingered at the edges of his sight, something like the pressure of his miraculous' powers. Those were not actual mummies. And suddenly, Adrien did not want to know if he would find decaying corpses or screaming victims beneath the gauze.

He leaped over the crowd of monsters, his heart in his throat for reasons other than the sudden change in altitude. His landing was clumsy, his arms flailing to keep his balance. Paon grunted when his heels dipped into the water of the fountains. Dang it.

Not important! He remembered a second later. The Pharaoh was still running ahead, Alya squirming under his arm.

Chat Noir wasn't getting out.

Ladybug hadn't noticed right away. She was swinging from the rooftop of the Louvre, her red-clad uniform cutting through the air and aiming for the kidnapped student. At her speed, she would catch up to the Pharaoh in half a minute at most. For a split second, Adrien had no idea what to do.

Then, he saw the Pharaoh invoke the power of another god and sprout wings. With them, he took off and aimed straight for the mass of mummies, and Chat Noir.

The red-head was barely visible within the crowd. He could not have seen the akuma coming.

Paon leaped before he knew what he was doing.

“Look here, you f _owl_ villain!”

And the beautiful part was: the Pharaoh _did_. The golden mask turned just enough to perfectly receive both of Paon's boots straight in the face. At such speeds, Paon felt the resistance fold his knees like springs. And just like springs, he dug his feet deeper in the akuma's mask before jumping away.

Adrien flipped in mid air, dozens of feet above the ground of the Louvre's courtyard, and he landed in a crouch next to Chat Noir with a grin far too wide to be innocent.

“You okay?” he asked his partner.

The red-head slammed his baton in a mummy's stomach, before quickly nodding. His face was pale, a bit green, and the jerky movements indicated why he hadn't thought to escape on his baton.

Panic. Fear. Being left alone in a crowd of enemies on one of his first outings.

 _Splendid teamwork_ , _Adrien._

“Well, we're getting nowhere here!” he said, grabbing Chat Noir from behind. “Hold on tight!”

The teenager only had time to yelp before getting pulled into the air, away from the mummies. Chat Noir fumbled with his baton, pushing a button at the top. An holographic screen appeared just as the teenager cried, “Ladybug, we –”

And the rest, Paon did not hear. A floating copy of Chat Noir's face had filled half his sight, the superhero looking at him with a mixture of panic and relief. He jerked his head back. Luckily, they had almost landed already, and he had the reflex to close his left eye to chase the distracting copy of Chat Noir's face. His feet touched down on the tiles, and with practiced ease, he bounced twice to reduce momentum before letting Chat Noir go.

Confused, Paon opened up his eye again, only to feel his sight split between the courtyard and a copy of Chat Noir's worried face. It was... dizzying. Incredibly disorientating.

"Something wrong, Paon?"

“Okay, that's dangerous. I can't see in one eye now.”

Was that why Juuno hadn't mentioned it before? He could imagine the kwami, wondering if Adrien had mastered his other powers well enough not to be distracted by the communicating tool. Likely, he would think back on that first night, where Adrien had recklessly rushed outside to test a gift he knew nothing about. He could see why that would make Juuno stay quiet for a bit.

“What?!” Ladybug's face replaced Chat Noir, far more panicked than he thought the situation warranted.

...Except if she didn't understand his communicator had been activated.

“I'm alright!” he rushed to say. “We can conclusively agree that I do have a communicator, though it's not the best one ever. It's in the left eye socket of my mask. I can see your face. More or less.”

Ladybug blushed slightly. “Oh, well, that's good to know. Glad you're alright.”

It took effort not to whoop and celebrate at her concern. “This is going to take time getting used to. And practice. In the meantime, can we agree not to call me unless it's absolutely urgent? I'm going to crash into a building if you do.”

Chat Noir nodded, his face a bit pale. However, Ladybug smirked, and that had the butterflies in Paon's stomach do all sorts of things. Maybe not now, but on patrol...

The predatory expression lingered for only a fleeting instant before the akuma's screams had them all whip their heads around. “Guys, the Pharaoh is about to start his ritual!”

“You two distract him!” Ladybug ordered.

Paon's sight returned to normal, and he could not even take in the seconds of relief. A pillar of light had emerged from the ground, the Pharaoh standing before it. Chat Noir bolted ahead of him, and Paon sprinted the next second.

He thought he saw a flash of red and black somewhere amongst the roofs, heard the spell incantation of Creation. But Paon did not know. The Pharaoh turned just in time to see him and Chat Noir charging.

Not in time to do much about it though.

He ducked under a swipe from Chat Noir's claws, right into Paon's fist. Stumbled, caught the baton mid-swing, threw it back, prompting both Paon and Chat to crouch. Paon launched himself at the Pharaoh, and from there it became a frantic melee, where he had no time to think or speak. Only trying to reach the cursed item, moving in concert with Chat. A blur or fists and limbs and the Pharaoh, cycling through gods and powers at an alarming rate, growing wings, then muscles, then extra arms. Paon increasingly suspected that none of it had anything to do with actual Egyptian mythology.

That did not make the stray punch that buried itself in his guts any less painful. Just strangely inaccurate.

“Feeble mortals.” The akuma sneered.

Paon's grimace turned into a smirk. His fingers gripped the akuma's arm and squeezed. Surprise flickered on the mask of gold, a brief trembling of colours in Paon's sight. Shock followed when Paon dug his feet in the ground, and twisted. The Pharaoh's arm went over Paon's head, and the rest of him followed in a graceless arc. Paon slammed him into the ground.

“Puny god!”

The Pharaoh pulled himself off the ground, his mask now red and fuming. “You dare mo--”

Chat Noir's baton struck him right in the face. “He does. So do I.”

Paon half-turned, grinning, his heart pumping madly in his chest. Such perfect timing. And he was opening his mouth to shout it at his partner, when an explosion rocked them off their feet.

Heat licked at their arms and their faces. Their eyes suddenly stung in the dry air, half-blinded by the eruption of light. Paon's boot slid over the tiles on the ground from the sheer force of air moved by the akuma's anger. No more games.

“By the power of Ra!” roared the Pharaoh within a circle of flame.

Slowly, almost as if wanting to stretch the moment, the akuma raised an arm to aim at them. The mask's smile seemed self-satisfied then, laughing nearly. Fire gathered between the akuma's fingers.

Paon's legs tensed, ready to spring to life.

Chat Noir held his baton vertically, his hands gripping the shaft hard enough it shook.

The Pharaoh's smirk grew. “You would have been unsuitable sacrifices.”

A cloud of white dust engulfed him. In the blink of an eye, the akuma had disappeared within the stream of white. More and more came streaming, spat from the mouth of a black cone. Its strength pushed back the figure half visible within the cloud, forced it to stagger away, to uselessly flail against the ever flowing stream of dust.

Paon's heart skipped a beat. Was it possible to look that awesome whilst brandishing a polka-dotted fire extinguisher?

“No one ordered any fried chicken, sorry,” Ladybug teased.

He should not grin, but holy cow, that was just the way to his heart. The cheesiness just complemented the hamminess of superheroics perfectly.

“You won't--” tried to say the Pharaoh, backing away from the cloud of white powder.

Conveniently, right into the leg Paon had outstretched. And even pharaohs powered by a poor imitation of the Egyptian gods could trip and fall on their back. As their current battle demonstrated.

“Cataclysm,” Chat Noir shouted.

And just like that, the cursed item disintegrated into nothing, leaving only a fluttering black butterfly.

The yo-yo cut through the air.

It released a little white butterfly just as Alya was being let down from the pillar of light.

And after the Restoration spell had covered Paris, Adrien remembered Juuno's words.

“Ladybug,” he whispered in her ears, “Alya can't know _for certain_ that you are a teenager.”

 

\--

 

In the end, the Louvre's exhibit provided an excellent cover to weaken the effect of Alya's discovery.

Most people focused on the idea that maybe Ladybug was a five thousands years old heroine from Ancient Egypt. A true relic of the past. A heroine with so much experience, it was a wonder that Hawk Moth hadn't spontaneously combusted from the blasphemy of standing up to her. Not to mention, more than a few Parisian were apparently worried about his Princess' skin and general seniority. Yeah, right, they just wondered if she was still dating material.

Adrien, as opposed to most people, had focused on the fact that there had also been a Chat Noir back then.

It was stupid. Very, very stupid, and borderline mean. But it seemed as if everywhere he went, something reminded him that his Princess was destined for another.

“Chat Noir is a nice boy.”

Adrien pushed on the button with a bit more force necessary. His giant robot on the screen performed a devastating uppercut to the Black Feline Champion.

“Nervous, timid, awestruck with Ladybug,” Juuno listed, his sweet tone belying his annoyance with his chosen.

Adrien opted for a rematch with a few brusque pushes on his controller. Why did his kwami feel the need to remind him how much of a lost cause he was? “I know, I know!”

“And with you,” Juuno added, his gaze stern. “Anyone can see that. You two are established heroes, and he's the newcomer and he may feel something for Ladybug but everyone knows you love her too. You don't think this is nerve-wracking for him too?”

Of course he knew that. An anxious need to please was written all over Chat Noir. Not just toward Ladybug, but toward Paon Bleu too.

The fire in his chest ablated, replaced by an uncomfortable cold guilt. He knew a bit too much about the need to please a distant figure.

His fingers clenched. “It's… why do we need a Chat Noir? Ladybug and I were doing fine!” With a raging cry, he threw his controller away and stood from his bedroom's couch. “And now we're straddled with another guy to pin after Ladybug?”

“He loves Marinette.”

“It's the same thing.”

“For you, it is. Nathanaël doesn't know, and his powers don't see through glamours. He loves Marinette, but he doesn't know that also means loving Ladybug. He's probably very confused about the attraction he feels toward her.”

“T-then, maybe he doesn't deserve heEA-- her loOo--… LAAAARGH--” His fist flew into the wall, radiating a dull pain into his knuckle. “It's not fair! This freaking brooch keeps messing with my brain!”

It refused to let him lie to himself. Not out loud, and with every lie nipped in the bug, even his thoughts became hesitant. “ _Maybe he doesn't deserve her love if he can't find out.” Deserve? Since when do people have to deserve love for it to be given?_

Love as Adrien had known it was like catching on fire. Being consumed by a spark that went wild and grew out of control. Feeling hot and warm and light in the presence of his Princess, in costume as well as out. To see only her in a crowd, to be able to pick her out amongst hundreds of faces with but a glance. Grinning so wide it hurt just from standing at her side. To want it to never end.

Their duo had ended. It was half the reason he was angry. The two of them would never stand so intimately again, not with a third member to their team. And it had been sprung out of nowhere.

“Adrien, Chat Noir has been chosen. It is done. What exactly do you want to happen _now_? For Chat Noir to leave? To give up his miraculous?” And before he could agree, Juuno flew closer, his eyes hard. “Knowing what would happen if Hawk Moth got a hold of it? Knowing what it feels like to be chosen? Have you already forgotten how miserable you were before we met?”

Adrien jerked as if he'd been slapped. He staggered away, the back of his knees hitting his bed's frame. Stumbling, he fell over his back and caught his breath. His chest felt cold. Slimy, oozing from the monster's venom. He… had he really thought that? How could he call himself a hero if he wished for that? For a second, he could almost see Juuno picking up the brooch and flying through the window, never to return.

Back to an ordinary life, away from his idol and love, chasing the image of his father's back, of his mother's smiles, waiting, lost within four walls about to suffocate him.

“I'm sorry, Juuno.”

“You know I'm not the one you should be apologizing to.”

Adrien, curved on his bed, holding onto his miraculous with both hands, his gaze lost in his thoughts of Ladybug and Marinette. Focused on the feeling of warmth that the thought brought to him, trying not to see more and more of that figure in black leather everywhere.

“Why do I feel this way, Juuno?” he muttered into his pillow. “I thought I would get over it after patrol. It even felt like it would go away at the museum, but...” He muffled a frustrated scream. “I know he doesn't deserve it. Heck, I am certain he didn't ask for the ring either. He's here because he wants to help. That's a whole lot better than wanting to do it for the freedom.”

His kwami's anger melted. “Oh, Adrien...”

“I'm the one that-” he cut off, feeling strangled by the hold of the magic, and the shock was enough to make him blink. _I'm the one that should lose his miraculous! I know that's the truth!_

And yet, he was physically unable to say it. His eyes watered as the full weight of Juuno's contract activating meant.

“Again with what people deserve, Adrien?” Juuno chuckled, a tender look in his eyes. “My poor chick. You get so hung up on this notion. You said it to Ladybug. Heroes are humans. They may appear bigger than life, but it's just the opposite. You are all humans.” The kwami floated closer, brushing aside one of his chosen's tears. “Wonderfully human. Listen to yourself, upset that you have negative feelings. And look at what you do in the face of danger. You run headfirst into it to protect everyone around you. Yes, including Chat Noir. I am not angry that you have these feelings. I am angry that you deny it. That you hide it and bury it so deep that you _hurt_ and lash out. I do not want you hurting. You are one of my most wonderful chicks, Adrien.”

Adrien's sobs doubled, but his heart was light. Warm. So warm and comfortable, Juuno's voice so soothing. He wanted to say something. To thank his kwami. To say what it meant to hear those words.

Juuno's smile was knowing. _Proud_. “You are worthy.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, Hawk Moth! Just because you can't get a date doesn't mean you have to make sure no one else can!”  
> It wasn't the best thing to shout at a supervillain that had been rejected by someone. Well, he assumed. Kim had to have been akumatized for a reason, and on Valentine's Day, that was his bet.

“Paon! What is the meaning of love?”

“Not the time to be asking questions, ma'am!” he gritted between his teeth while they soared through the air.

She held him too loosely, her head held away from his shoulder just so she could see his face and search for a hint of the Truth. The lady, perhaps late thirties early forties, had trails of damp skin going down her cheeks. Her eyes were red.

His grip on her tightened, not purely out of fear that she might slip if she kept this up. “Hold on!” he yelled as they landed.

His feet screamed and skipped on the concrete as he scrambled to keep his balance. _Don't fall, don't fall, don't– lamppost!_ He swerved left to dodge the pole of metal right in his path. The lady yelped, instinctively clinging to Paon's chest. With a few more skips, Adrien managed to come to a halt, the sole of his boots screeching at the sidewalk.

He might love the superpowers, but he could kill for a way to balance and change directions in midair. His Princess' yo-yo sounded real appealing right about then.

“Are you okay?” he asked the lady while she slowly let go of him.

“Please, I have to know…”

Anger bubbled up inside him. _I'll punch that guy in the face!_ “No. You have to run away right now before Dark Cupid shoots you with one of his arrows!”

The lady hesitated, but screams in the background suddenly rose, and one more look at his snarling face convinced her. Finally, she ran. Paon turned and leaped toward the screaming.

At least, it had been a mild question. Which really said something about what he had come to consider a heavy topic.

In a little corner of his head, Adrien had started reserving special loathing for the guy that had started it all. The press conference had been innocent enough. They had recently saved Notre-Dame from destruction, the mayor was predictably trying to boost his ratings with the public, and they had been given one symbolic reward or another.

He had been giddy, just like at the unveiling of the statue in the public park. Though, unlike that time, Paon had sworn not to let his jealous feelings get in the way. Not to mention, it probably would be a lot harder to accomplish anyway, what's with the crowd of reporters and fans all mixed together. He had squeezed Ladybug's hand, sharing a complicit, proud look before doing the same for Chat Noir, who tried not to look at any of the camera flashes.

Normally, Paon Bleu would pose for the cameras, revelling in the spotlight given to him for his actions rather than his looks. Plus, he now had it from the mouth of the lady herself that Ladybug actually found his antics a bit amusing.

So, yes, normally, he would have, but the small, uncertain smile on Chat Noir's face had him hesitate. If he had shown how easy it was for him to stand in front of a camera – the eyes of which had followed him since his early childhood –, Nathanaël would have crumbled.

 _Awestruck with Ladybug... and with you._ He'd begun to understand, on a deeper level, that Chat Noir was trying to imitate Ladybug and Paon Bleu. He definitely could have shown him up if he had tried. The monster in his chest had purred at the idea.

Yet Adrien had squeezed Chat Noir's hand and mouthed “you're doing fine.”

Nathanaël's eyes had widened behind his mask, and he'd let out a shuddering breath. His stance had grown straighter, a glint of steel in him so similar to Ladybug's own stance. He had smirked at Paon, twirling his baton with his free hand. And Adrien could not have felt more proud.

_There you go, Nath._

Pressure had squeezed his other hand, and Paon had had to reign in the jolt of surprise that ran through his mind. With a discreet turn of his head, he had turned enough to glance at Ladybug.

The tender look in her eyes had sent his heartbeat into a frenzy. She had seen him. It had not even occurred to him. His Princess had witnessed him supporting Chat Noir.

“Ladybug, Paon Bleu, Chat Noir!”

The crowd had _roared,_ their cries so staggeringly loud all three superheroes had felt it in their bones. It should have been scary, but at the time, all Paon had heard were the various cries of 'Paris loves you!' that sprouted amongst the crowd. There were people with banners, people with shirts, people on the verge of fainting in hysteria. Even one or two with bright neon blue hair.

Now, in good conscience, and as an Agreste, he had almost felt contractually obligated to tell them it was not working very well with their complexion. He likely should have, but it had just made him a bit more teary-eyed.

“Thank you,” the mayor had said, and followed it up with a speech on the gratitude of the city toward their growing team of superheroes. It had been, as the man explained, an honour to be the one to thank all three of them personally. Most people had remained politely silent during that part.

And then…

And then some _moron_ had shouted, “Hey, Paon, is God real?”

You could have heard a grain of salt fall on a heavily carpeted floor in a soundproof room in the sheer quality of silence that had befallen that question. Every single head in the crowd had turned toward Adrien, poor little white in the face Adrien Agreste. Even Ladybug had been completely stunned.

It had been like looking at a light bulb turning on, but hundred of them at the same time. Juuno's most dreadful power had been finally understood by a crowd of _journalists_ and _fans_.

Paon Bleu could not lie. Mistakes and sincere belief did not allow him to lie either.

His lips had begun to form words. Never before had he slammed his palms over his mouth so violently. The hit had had pain running through his jaw, a dull ache spreading through his gums, and yet he had not noticed any of it. Ladybug and Chat Noir had stared at him with wide eyes, as if they realized the same thing he did.

He had tried to answer. He could have actually given the answer to that question.

Adrien had seen the videos. The grainy images that could be found on the Internet could not even begin to show the disorientation that had struck him in that one second. The videos kept on playing for a few seconds of silence, a few seconds that had stretched into hours for Adrien, and in one of the most viewed videos, one could pinpoint the exact moment horror had dawned on Paon Bleu. His face had gone white as a corpse.

He had never noped out of a situation that fast before. He had refused at least seven interviews from various TV Channels and religious groups since then. Even Ladybug hadn't been nearly as harassed during their patrols. It had even eclipsed some of Chat Noir's new member appeal.

And now whenever he rescued someone from up close, they asked for some great answer to life's biggest mysteries. It was wearing him thin.

He did not want to answer “Is my wife cheating on me?” ever again. He wasn't supposed to leave a poor young man crying on the floor after a rescue. That wasn't his job. He was a superhero, for Truth's sake!

“We deserve to know!” They'd shout at him. And the worst part was that most of them flashed green to his eyes.

At some point, Paon might just fall prey to Hawk Moth if the public kept this up much longer.

Currently however, he wasn't at risk, as Kim was the victim _du jour_.

“Hey, Hawk Moth! Just because you can't get a date doesn't mean you have to make sure no one else can!”

It wasn't the best thing to shout at a supervillain that _had_ been rejected by someone. Well, he assumed. Kim had to have been akumatized for a reason, and on Valentine's Day, that was his bet.

Clearly, his logical assumption proved right when the flier roared and aimed an arrow. Before it could be loosened however, a mask of purple light materialized over Kim's mask.

In the oozing light, Adrien could even read Hawk Moth's desire to hurt him. Jokes on him, because Paon had a head start on that feeling. With a cocky smile, he gestured for Dark Cupid to bring it, to _shoot_ one of those cursed arrows. The best part was Hawk Moth's growing frustration with his insipid plots.

Immunity to mind control was definitely one of the best powers to have against the akumas. He had stopped counting the number of times he would have been turned against his Princess otherwise. She said three, but he knew it would be higher if Hawk Moth didn't sometimes remember the futility of trying to turn Paon against Ladybug.

Unfortunately, that didn't mean the same was true of his teammates.

They both seemed to realize it simultaneously. Dark Cupid's glare became frantic, and he dove through an alley.

“Crap!” Paon shouted as he leaped after him. “Get back here, you heartbroken teenager!”

In a perfect world, Kim would have listened. In fact, he would have given up the akumatized item on the spot. Maybe apologize and – why not? – invite Adrien to a party. And Father would spontaneously develop concern for Adrien's happiness. Yeah, right.

He rolled the moment he impacted the roof, then made another jump across the houses of Paris. The red angel-like akuma took a sharp turn through a narrow street while Paon was in the air.

Adrien's curse rang loud but was lost in the sea of angry rants coming from the streets below. Dark Cupid's hate plague was spreading with every shot that came from his bow.

“Fight me!” he shouted, his voice raw with frustration and a hint of desperation. “Bet you can't even touch a feather on my head!”

Without Hawk Moth's influence over the akuma, maybe it would have worked. But Dark Cupid only flapped his wings faster and harder.

Paon made the promise that he would talk to Juuno about fighting flying opponents as soon as possible. This couldn't keep happening!

He had just spotted Kim as he flew around a corner when his Princess swung in full view of them both. And the teen had a nasty grin on his face.

Paon's blood ran cold. “Ladybug! Look out!”

His legs pushed against the floor harder than ever before, explosively, and Adrien rocketed through the air. He was so far away. How could he have let himself be led around an akuma like a rookie? His eyes widened in horror as Dark Cupid let go of his bowstring. The arrow flew.

So did he. His arm outstretched, his body rocketing through the air. In the span of two heartbeats, he had crossed the distance to Dark Cupid. In another, he was nearing the arrow's end.

The tail brushed against his fingertips. It slipped past his fingers.

It struck. He heard the gasp and the telltale sound of a puff of black smoke.

A dangerous lapse of attention. Paon's leap carried him further, and his horror slowed his reaction for a handful of precious seconds. He crashed headfirst into a rooftop, his body rolling over the tiles in a wild flail of limbs. For a few second, Adrien forgot where and when he was, seeing nothing but a world split in half, orange and blue, spinning, spinning, fast then slow, to a tilt and his sight near blurred.

Oh, he might throw up. His heart had been dislodged from his chest, and had found residence alternatively at the back of his throat and the sole of his feet. Thoughts came to him slow, the first was that he was not nearly as much pain as he had expected from a tumble like the one he just had. The second was that his miraculous felt strangely heavy.

Pulsing, radiating a sort of warmth and cold, like a feeling of worry seeping through him.

“'M... m'okay, Juuno,” Paon Bleu muttered, trying to get his eyes to stop jolting left and right.

Groaning, he stood. Where... where was...?

 _Ladybug!_ His mind clarified like a bolt of lightning had struck. _The arrow! It hit her!_ he thought as he scanned the street in panic. But he did not see his Princess, cursed, black-lipped, her confident smirk turned into a sneer.

Ladybug was holding on to a grimacing Chat Noir, whose face was distorted with pain. Her yo-yo blocked more projectiles from Dark Cupid.

Chat Noir slumped in her grasp, his red hair resting on her suit.

And in that sight, Adrien's jealousy felt like a petty thing. An ugly, shrivelled little thing to squash under his boot. He had no right, no right at all, to disparage Chat Noir even in thoughts.

Nathanaël was a hero. As much as Marinette or Adrien. He was a damn hero, a good friend and a teenaged boy that didn't deserve a hard time from one of… his… idols…

“Ladybug! Get away from Chat Noir! Now!”

Turquoise slitted-eyes jerked open.

The black claws swiped where Ladybug's stomach would have been a second earlier. Chat Noir, his lips tainted black, glared and hissed at the girl he had just taken an arrow for. He seemed to have forgotten his staff, his clawed-hands reaching for her face.

A yellow boot landed in his stomach. “Sorry, Chat!” Paon told the folded boy.

“Paon, what's going on with Chat?” Ladybug asked quickly, her yo-yo swinging to block more of Kim's cursed arrow.

Good, he... he might not have dodged that one. He needed a second or two to get his balance back.

“Well, Kim's been turned into a reverse cupid. The people he hits with his arrow start to hate those they love.” Paon ducked under a particular vicious swing. “So, good news, Princess! Chat Noir definitely likes us both.”

A ghost of a smile lingered on his Princess' lips, before she refocused on the situation at hands.

“This is not a good place for a fight.” Ladybug's yo-yo hit the chimney Cupid hid behind. “We're right in the open here and I don't have time to use my Lucky Charm.”

“Nothing worse than being sitting _ducks_ ,” Paon teased, though with an edge to it.

As much as he hated to admit it, fighting Chat Noir on a slanted roof might be trouble. And Ladybug had to be an unmoving target for Dark Cupid's arrows, lest the akuma take the chance to shoot him in the back instead. It probably wouldn't work, but a hit was a hit, and that could be fatal in a duel with his destructive teammate.

“On three,” his Princess whispered.

A glint of silver light reflected the sun just before another arrow landed dangerously close to his feet. For a second, Paon wondered if the arrow would dissolve into black smoke if it hit someone immune. The thought sent a jolt of energy into his legs, and he dodged Chat Noir's swipes with a well-timed somersault.

As he landed, Ladybug shouted “Three!”

They jumped down the roof in unison, her yo-yo flung over their head to shield them both from Dark Cupid's arrows. Puffs of black smoke flew off the circle of light, and without thinking, Paon grabbed his Princess' waist. At any other time, he would be cheering at her lack of protests or comments, content held against him. This time though, he merely prepared himself for landing.

Ladybug jumped forward the second he touched down. Paon Bleu dashed like hell was chasing him over, black arrows digging deep into the ground inches away from him and his partner. Dark Cupid's roar of pure hatred rang loud through the streets.

From then on, it was a game of cat and mouse. Ladybug's mobility restored, she zipped around the rooftops, hoping to lead Paon away from the akuma long enough for the duo to regroup. Against Chat who had only begun to patrol Paris, the feat would have been fairly simple. It was Dark Cupid's flight that proved problematic.

“We can lose him in the alleys, Birdie!” Ladybug shouted.

“Sounds good!”

But when he turned to glance behind them, Paon only saw the distant figure of Dark Cupid staying stationary.

 _He's taking aim!_ screeched through his mind just as he saw the black glint cut through the air. Just like before. Hawk Moth must have been mocking him. Must have been laughing at how pathetic Paon was after all his bravado. He would win with the same shot that Paon had failed to prevent before!

There wouldn't be another teenager sacrificing himself to save Ladybug if he failed.

The sickening head of an arrow stared him down, held only an inch away from his face by his own fist.

“Did you see that, Princess?” He grinned as he landed and threw the thing to the ground.

“Yeah. Nice reflexes there, Birdie. Now, follow me!”

They ducked into an alley, then jumped through an open driveway.

Their bodies pressed against the small stone wall, the two held their breaths as a woosh of air followed by the clicks of a baton on rock grew louder, then fainter.

The downside to being Paon is that he couldn't cast spells like his teammate could. His time limit was fixed from the moment he transformed; it didn't shorten, but it didn't stretch either. There were two eyes left on his brooch. Enough if he worked fast, but he didn't have any way of breaking the curse on Nathanaël.

The same manic calculating look was in his Princess' eyes. For a second, he had to double-check and see if she hadn't already cast her Lucky Charm.

With a grin, he called, “An idea, Princess?”

She looked him back with the winning smile of the Lady of Luck. “Yes, and it's pretty crazy.”

“You know I love crazy! Let's do it!”

 

\--

 

The confrontation happened in the middle of a square, right by a fountain. Their red-headed teammate's hatred hadn't subdued in the least. In fact, time and the inability to get his claws on them had seemed to feed his hatred. His snarl was beast-like, and the two were struck with the idea of citizens all over Paris raging this way at their loved ones.

Ladybug's voice felt as firm and cold as ice. “Make sure Dark Cupid doesn't shoot me. I'll fix this. I'll fix all of Paris and this'll be nothing but a bad memory and another black mark against Hawk Moth's record.”

“Aye, aye, Princess,” he saluted, his heart not into it. “I shall intercept any hit meant for you.”

“Cataclysm!”

Paon's cocky grin faltered as cold sweat rolled down his back. This was bad. It had been a lingering thought since he heard of the spell, but he had hoped to never get a demonstration for the effect of Cataclysm on a person.

“I can take care of it, Paon. Get Kim.”

“But Princess!”

She barely glanced at him, her eyes in pinpoint laser focus. “Crazy plans, remember? I can deal with Chat.”

Whatever other protests he wanted to make, they were shut down by the dark arrow that whizzed past his face. Okay. Focusing on the akuma with a bow and arrow. Priorities. He would have to trust his princess.

Paon Bleu would like to say that it was easy. That he was used to it. They, after all, did this all the time. Both of them were perfectly capable heroes in their own rights and no one could say anything about that. No one. But Paon still flinched when he heard the cries of rage coming from their brainwashed friend and the grunts of annoyance from a Ladybug that dodged a Cataclysm to the face.

The moment Dark Cupid aimed his bow past Paon however, all of Adrien's focus narrowed onto him. His left hand snatched the arrow in midair. His right reached for Dark Cupid's collar and _threw him down on the concrete_.

“I've got him! Now's your chance, Princess!”

Just like he knew she would, Ladybug managed to pin down Chat Noir, his hand still glowing with the spell of Destruction, in the span of two heartbeats. Not having to fear an arrow to the back left her perfectly able to outmaneuver a berserk Chat.

“I hate you! I hate you both! I wish you'd--”

Ladybug's lips crashed against Chat Noir's.

Paon's words of encouragement died out in his throat. Ah. So, that was the crazy idea? Well, points for cliché. And the crazy. But a lot of negative points for pulling his heart out of his chest and stomping on it joyfully.

And if it wasn't enough, it worked. The universe really hated his guts.

“Ladybug?” Chat Noir blinked. “Where… what's going on?”

“No time to explain. Think fast!”

That was his cue. Paon turned and pulled Kim in the way of the flailing cat-boy. But not too much.

Cataclysm lightly grazed Dark Cupid's quiver belt. It disintegrated in seconds and Ladybug leaped to catch the brooch within. No easy quip came to him, not with his heart in shambles and the sight of the hate plague's effect still fresh.

Ladybug-like sprites rushed through the air, their little red wings carrying a gentle and warm glow. One of them lingered a bit longer on his chest, near his brooch, and the uneasy stomach in his feeling melted.

The day was saved. He should focus on that. Another akuma thwarted, another battle they survived.

Juuno's voice lingered at the back of his mind. _'Look at you, upset that you have negative feelings.'_ The day was saved. Ladybug, and Paon, and Chat, the three of them had triumphed in the end. Hawk Moth had been thwarted.

When his Princess offered her fist, Paon did smile. “Pound it!”

Their knuckles touched and twisted for a too short moment, and Paon could not help think that yes, things would be alright in the end. Even with a new member to their team, even if his love went unrequited, Ladybug and Paon Bleu would still forever be partners.

They turned to offer the congratulation bump to Chat Noir as well, and their smiles slipped.

Chat Noir was gone.

“Oh no…” Ladybug bit her lips, a delicate frown on her face. “He's… he must be ashamed he got hit by Dark Cupid.”

Would he? Had he remembered trying to sink his claws into them? Or did he wake up from a black-out with Ladybug on top of him and the lingering idea in his head that his lips felt a bit warmer. “Do you know if he remembers?”

Ladybug's cheeks were lightly dusted with pink, and the monster in Paon's guts howled in anger.

“I don't know, Paon. I hope not. We… He tried to use Cataclysm on me.”

Yeah. That would stew in someone.

“We can't let him just go sulk in his corner like that,” he said. “We have to find him and tell him.”

“I know. But we don't have much of a choice, Paon. He's gone, and he used Cataclysm. It's likely he changed back already. We'll have to wait until next patrol and try and talk to him. Once we get a hold of him, things will go back to normal,” Ladybug declared with an easy certainty before heading toward their classmate still on his knees.

She had been tainted in patches of blue. Adrien sighed. He appreciated her efforts to reassure him. Ladybug was his leader, always, and he had made sure to remind her of that. A bit too much, maybe.

Paon waited a few more instants, the voice of his Princess comforting poor Kim while he asked why he was here all of a sudden, and had he _really_ turned into one of Hawk Moth's supervillains? Was he at least cooler than Alix's?

He shuddered at the thought of Timebreaker. Nope. That one had been in its own weight class and he never wanted to see that kind of monster again. Dark Cupid had been bad, but not quite as heart wrenching as seeing his classmates vanish into thin air. Or the split second of realization that it would be him or Ladybug.

This time, it had been Chat Noir that took the hit.

He shivered. “Juuno, how much time do I have left?”

There was a beep, and Adrien grimaced at the last peacock eye on his miraculous flashing.

“Where am I going to find blueberries on Valentine's Day?” he sighed to himself before jumping down in an alley.

 

\--

 

Nathanaël's house stood in the middle of a very ordinary residential area. For a rich boy like Adrien, it had been a mild shock to realize how little space the common Parisian had to live in. Nino's bedroom could fit in Adrien's bathroom twice over. Nathanaël's was of similar dimensions. At least, he had access to a small balcony bordered by an old-looking railing.

At the moment, their tomato head intern was leaning on said railing, a small square of white light shining from the device in his hand. Another silent leap helped him reached Nathanaël's roof undetected, and he leaned over the tiles of the roof, praying that this wasn't private.

As a matter of fact, it wasn't. It was a matter of public importance, what's with the videos being widely available on the Internet, and more precisely on the Ladyblog.

Paon Bleu's frown deepened. Nathanaël shouldn't be watching that. Paon had a good idea what the comment section would be about on Alya's blog. The video looked much more blurry and shaking than Alya's usual fair, but you could still see Chat Noir distinctively as he raised a hand over his hand and called for the power of Destruction.

“Don't watch that, Chat Noir. Trust me, it never helps.”

The teenager startled so bad his phone jolted and fell from his grasp, though on the balcony as opposed to down the street. Nathanaël sent Paon a reproachful look, his eyes narrowed. “Hey, can you not sneak up on… me?”

The way he had been addressed sank in, and Nathanaël's face turned an ill-looking shade of white.

“It's okay,” Paon immediately said, placating. “I already knew. It was a pretty easy guess once you looked past the glamour.”

The boy's horror made place to confusion. “What?”

“It's one of the perks of being Paon Bleu. I guess Plagg didn't explain it?” Nathanaël shook his head. “Yeah, I've heard he is a little lazy. It's like this: every miraculous cast a spell over the users to make it harder for them to be recognized, but I can see past it. So, all those little stray thoughts that keep you away from thinking too hard on who they are? I don't have them. I can see your hair and remember your face and hear your voice. You being Chat Noir made sense.”

_Because every Chat Noir loves Ladybug. Even if they don't know it._

Nathanaël sighed. “I… well, no point denying it to you.”

“I appreciate that.” Paon chuckled, walking on the railing as if it were a tightrope. “You wouldn't know how much it ruffles my feathers when people lie to my face knowing I can tell. They always seem to think they can pull one over me.”

“So how long have you known?”

Paon put a hand beneath his chin. “I'm not sure when was the exact moment I knew, but I figured it out maybe a day or two after you first appeared. Heck, I had a feeling it was you from the very first time I saw Chat Noir. The coincidences that piled on were a bit too much to dismiss.”

He heard a chuckle rise from behind Nathanaël's back and blinked.

“Told you keeping secret identities was useless with the peacock around.”

“Is that Plagg?”

A black shape peeked from around Nathanaël's shoulders, then floated out in the open, completely unashamed and unafraid.

“Hey kid,” the floating black cat said. “How's Juuno?”

“I owe him three blueberry bowls and a ton of apologies. So, top form.” He gave the kwami a wink, and to his surprise, Plagg chuckled again.

“I like you, kid. Take lessons from him, kitten.” – Nathanaël sputtered while Paon practiced his poker face. – “Now, more cheese, and not the cheap stuff! Some real Camembert.”

Nathanaël buried his head in his hands and groaned. “It's _expensive_ , Plagg! I'm not made of money.”

Plagg scoffed and Nathanaël started scolding him in low tones, a bit too conscious of his idol at first. Paon had to admit, that was kind of interesting to watch. Clearly, not every kwami was like Juuno. Or maybe it was just Plagg that liked being a little jerk. He couldn't help feel like he had dodged a bullet with not getting saddled with the black cat kwami after all.

“Hmmm, kind of awkward to ask that of you, Plagg, but would you mind letting me talk with Nath on our own?”

“Hey, don't mind me.” The black kwami plopped down and sniffed a block of cheddar cheese with obvious disdain. “I can already tell this is going to be good. Juuno can give Tikki a run for her money when it comes to lectures.”

Paon flinched at the spike in temperature from his miraculous. “Juuno!”

The brooch glinted then settled back to normal. The equivalent of a sulk.

Nathanaël seemed like he wanted to smile. A little. But then his insecurity caught up, and he slumped against the railing. “Alright. What was it you wanted to tell me? You've known for some time now. Why are you showing up today? I mean, we could have talked earlier.”

“Well, it's partly because Ladybug wants us to keep our hero lives and our civilian lives separated. But mostly, it's because I wanted you to hear it from me while I was in uniform. So you know I'm not making it up.”

The meaning was not lost on his superhero colleague.

Nathanaël braced himself, eyes closed. He was prepared to be told they wanted him to quit. To give up Plagg to a more suited Chat Noir. It was written all over his face. He truly believed that.

The sight tore Adrien's heart out of his chest. Good thing he had come tonight before that festered too much.

“Despite what some of the people on the blog might say, it wasn't your fault. You were hit by a cursed arrow trying to protect Ladybug. She doesn't blame you at all. I don't either, for the record.”

Nathanaël's eyes shot wide open. “W-what?”

Paon's smile was both gentle and dazzling. “You heard me.”

“No. I, you guys shouldn't… I almost killed her!”

Plagg, whom Adrien was starting to think of as a real jerk, unhelpfully corrected, “Destroyed. Reduced to ashes. My powers are the only ones that can destroy another miraculous.”

The combined glare the two teenaged boys sent him got the cat to grumble in his cheese and stay quiet.

“Look, Nath…” Paon turned his focus to his friend. “The length you went… that's just showing how deeply you care about her. Kim just reversed what you were feeling. Great love became great hate. And we both understand that. Spouses of twenty, thirty, forty years angrily broke up under the power of those arrows. They made up once Ladybug fixed Paris. Do you think it's fair to hold it up against you specifically?”

Nathanaël looked up to Paon, then down to his hands. They clenched into fists. “I… I should have just dodged the hit.”

To his chagrin, Adrien putting a hand on Nathanaël's shoulder made him jump. He held his hand in the air for a second, then sighed. Right.

“You made the right call. Faced with an unknown curse, it was better to make sure Ladybug wouldn't be hit. She is more important than she says.” Paon paused, then looked his friend right in the eyes. “We both know she hates the idea, but we're more expendable than her. It's her magic that fixes the damage, that heals the rifts and lets Paris continue to function. Me? I don't even have a spell. I can just punch and kick and try to find where the akuma hides. It doesn't really compare. We're doomed to be her shields first.”

“I… I don't mind that,” Nathanaël said, a blush on his cheeks making him look as red as his hair.

“Yeah, me neither. But she does. That's why she's worth it.”

They remained silent. Perhaps Nathanaël was as lost in his thought of love as Adrien. He had admired Ladybug before, but could that start to become something greater? Something like what he felt for Marinette?

_Chat Noir has always loved Ladybug._

Yet, when the teenager sighed, it wasn't a forlorn lovestruck one. It was one of resignation.

“I hate mind control.” And wasn't that a near blinding flash of green light to Paon's eyes.

“It does. It really does. Being made to act against who you are sucks.”

He might have been the wrong person to say that. From Adrien, that would have gotten curious and mildly worried looks. From Paon, that seemed a grievous insult.

“How would you know?” Nathanaël's bitter cry froze him on the spot. “You're… you can't be turned against Ladybug! You can't just be zapped on one of your first mission and screw it all up so bad you nearly kill your idol! You… You're Paon Bleu! Ladybug doesn't need a screw-up like me as her partner!”

“Kid.” Plagg's voice rose from his near forgotten perch, and Paon blinked at the annoyed warning he found in the word. “What did we talk about?”

Nathanaël's traits softened, a long shuddering breath expelled from his lungs.

“Sorry, sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I'm a hero. I'm Chat Noir, not a screw-up. Sorry, Paon.”

Huh. Maybe he had judged Plagg a bit too harshly.

“Nat. It's okay.” Paon waved it off. It wasn't like he wasn't used to being blown at. People lied in anger. He envied that. Perhaps. With a sigh, he dropped sitting down on the railing, his legs dangling in the air. “It'll be okay. Ladybug and me? We used to screw up all the time. Don't you remember Stoneheart? We really could have done a better job there. And that's just a specific case. I goof so much on the job it's not even funny, but I can't for the life of me stop. I got sucker punched by an akuma I could see coming a mile away because I just had to make _that_ pun and Ladybug fought on her own for five minutes because of me. Stupid. A dumb mistake. But we're humans under the mask, Nath.”

Someone honked somewhere down in the street, and Adrien allowed his gaze to fall down. A red car was starting up with a screech of tire while a woman in a purple car cursed.

“Maybe things would be better if we were all those awesome, flawless superheroes that never made any mistakes. But in the end, you and me and Ladybug? We're all flesh and blood under the masks. We're allowed to be imperfect.” There were so many of them. Silhouettes moving through the blur of daily life. All of them, an individual life worth protecting. He would put money down that someone in Paris right now needed help. And he couldn't give it to them. That one was a harsh truth to be told. “You're right, I don't know what it's like to be put under mind control, but I've been forced to act in ways I wasn't comfortable or happy with before. Paon's my escape. Just remember that we don't hate you, Chat Noir.”

He fled before Nathanaël could ask more.

–

 

When he let his transformation faded, Adrien did not feel the usual weight of Juuno's powers leaving him. Normally, he would have had a split second of disorientation, experimenting with his own muscles to fight off the loss of energy. This time however, he still felt... light.

“Adrien, that was... ” Juuno whispered, his eyes wide with wonder, “that was immensely kind.”

Was that it? Just the knowledge of having done good to his rival? Was it just this that left him with the impression of being able to fly still?

 _Nathanaël knows I know._ That had been something he worried about. There could have been some other way to do it. That much he did not doubt, but at the time, he had only needed to imagine how Chat Noir would go to night thinking himself worse than useless.

“Nathanaël should not have to spend an evening beating himself up over the fight,” he said, and it was the simple truth. “He did not deserve that.”

“No, but you have put a great deal of efforts in being the one to change that, Adrien,” Juuno replied, hovering close as if debating hugging his chosen. “Ladybug kissing Chat Noir hurt you, even if you know why she did it.”

Adrien did not crash to the ground, but the feeling of soaring faded. With a sigh, he let himself fall on his couch, looking at the black screen of his television. The reflection looked back with tired eyes.

“It's like Mrs. Bustier said. Your True Love's kiss will break any curse placed on you. It worked.” The reflection shook as if laughing, and Adrien had trouble breathing. “It's not a surprise. You already said Chat Noir was fated to love Ladybug.”

He had held himself together in front of Marinette. He had pushed the thought deep down for Nathanaël. But now, it just threatened to spill out of him from the wound in his heart. Ladybug's love had overcome the hatred of Dark Cupid's curse. It was lucky he was immune to mind control.

There wouldn't have been anyone able to save him!

The boy on the screen looked back as if he were lost. As if he would trip and fall the moment he moved. Pathetic. It was the image of a _boy_ forever doomed to stare at people's _backs_. Always chasing. Always running after the people in front of him.

What was it that kept people from loving him?

“Adrien.”

The reflection disappeared behind a stern looking kwami. Adrien had nowhere to look but in the depths of his emerald eyes. To see the concern and the worry swirl in Juuno's gaze.

“Do you believe Marinette is in love with Chat Noir?”

“She...” he started to say before Juuno's phrasing had him fall silent. Marinette? Was _Marinette_ in love with Chat Noir? With Nathanaël?

The memory that came to the forefront was that of the day before Nathanaël became Chat Noir. That time Chloé had tripped him in class to see his drawings. Once the subject of his artistic creations had been revealed, Marinette had appeared surprised.

She had been angry as well. Outraged at Chloé's behaviour just like Alya and Nino.

“Is Marinette in love with Chat Noir?” Adrien repeated to himself.

It clicked. What Juuno had meant to ask. Adrien had been thinking about Nathanaël.

Marinette, Ladybug, the two sides of the coin that made his Princess. It was the same with Chat Noir, with Paon Bleu. All three of them existed behind a mask and without one. And Adrien had to pause, to remember moments in class when Marinette had mentioned Chat Noir. It had only happened once within earshot of him. And that time, Alya had brought him up.

He could not remember the last time Marinette and Nathanaël had interacted at school. For the most part, the young artist was so withdrawn people forgot he attended their class. Unless, of course, Mrs. Mendeleiev called him out.

“I don't understand... The kiss worked, didn't it? It had to be True Love. The stories all say that.”

Juuno pushed a strand of Adrien's hair away from his eyes. “Adrien, would you call the love between a mother and her child true?”

Adrien's jaw dropped. “That's... that's not how they feel about each other.”

Juuno hummed. “No, it is not, but it was the easiest way to make you understand. Ladybug... Ladybug loves both Chat Noir and Paon Bleu. And you both return the sentiment.”

_Forever. Always._

“ _You will always be important to me. Always.”_

“ _She doesn't blame you at all. I don't either, for the record.”_

“ _So, good news, Princess! Chat Noir definitely likes us both.”_

Adrien hid his face behind both his hands. “I... I've been such a fool,” he groaned. Always listening to that bitter monster in his chest. Always paying attention to its poisoned whispers.

“Oh, no, no you haven't,” Juuno cooed, nuzzling Adrien's cheeks.

Shaking, the teenager pushed his hands away. He stood abruptly, throwing his arms to the side, all the repressed frustrations bubbling over. “What else do you call someone who can't see what's right in front of them?”

“Blind.”

Adrien froze. His mouth remained open. He blinked owlishly, his ears ringing. He had not just heard that.

“Juuno...” He licked his lips, swallowed. His mouth felt dry. “Was that a _joke?_ ”

The kwami was smirking. “No. I do not joke.” Then, a bit more softly, “Humans are born blind. They only learn to see the Truth little by little, Adrien. And you have done a great many things already to push away the lies.”

He could not reign in a bitter scoff. “Not enough, apparently.”

“If they asked you to die for them, would you do it?”

_Forever. Always._

Adrien looked down and smiled. “Yes. I would do it.”

How many times had he put his life in their hands? How many times had Ladybug said 'jumped' and he had jumped without even looking where he was going to land? His Princess needed only ask, and his life would be forfeited.

“What do you call that, if not love?”

 _Trust. Loyalty. Faith. Affection._ He'd call it many things, but at the end of the path, every word merged together. It was love. For them and for his city. For the city of light and everyone that lived within. Love. The pulse in his veins feeling as if it was meant for someone else. All of him, given and accepted.

“You have done many emotionally draining things today, Adrien. For tonight, can't you rest easy knowing that you share this with Ladybug and Chat Noir?”

It ought to scare him a bit. In a way, it did. But if they felt even half of what he felt for them, then...

Well, he would have had someone to wake him up from Dark Cupid's curse, wouldn't he?

“I think... I think I can be at peace with it.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I'm not stupid.”
> 
> At this, Nathalie's brow arched. Her eyes suddenly made him feel seen through, as if he were nothing more than a transparent statue. There were words on the tip of her tongue. Something typically Nathalie, cold and stern, not without its fair share of wisdom. Maybe 'all teenagers are stupid'.

Some days, Adrien wondered what in the world his past lives had done to accumulate such bad karma. At times, he wondered if his bad luck did not make him more suited for the Black Cat's miraculous. Well, no, that was the envy speaking, but still.

Case in point: Paris covered in rabid, mindcontrolled pigeons.

Supportive argument: handsome young supermodel that was allergic to feathers.

Overkill additional reason: the chance of being seen and harassed by ordinary people for answers to their damnable questions.

Definitive nail-on-the-coffin fact: two superhero partners that needed his help.

Adrien sighed, then shot one more look at the rooftops separating him from his teammates. A quick headcount left him at more or less fifty pigeons. Fifty flying rats carriers of pestilence and allergies. Yup, that was his day. That was how this magical adventure would unfold today. Pigeons. Everywhere.

Did he want to go? No, not even in the slightest. Was he going to let his friends go through with it in his stead? No. Tempting, but no.

He landed on a chimney a few feet away from Ladybug and Chat Noir. “Have no fear, partners, for I am here!”

They startled, whirling around with shock on their faces, but it faded as soon as they recognized his voice, slightly distorted by the budding symptoms of his allergies. Then, to his surprise, Chat Noir broke into a grin.

“Look, Paon, your brothers and sisters have come to visit!”

Paon snorted. Damn it! He was supposed to be irritated about being mocked, not amused! “I noticed.”

Ladybug glanced between to the two of them, and Paon expected a quick admonishment for them to be serious. Instead, her eyes _sparkled_ with amusement, a smile tugging at her lips. With one hand at her hip, she nodded to the scenery of pigeons-covered rooftops.

“So many birds. Maybe we should try to find a bunch of cats to deal with the akuma this time.”

Paon Bleu whirled on Chat Noir and pointed a threatening finger at the latter's chest. “Don't you dare eat my family!”

Chat Noir's eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing silently while red crept up on his cheeks. “I... huh... huh? Oh, wait, right. I wouldn't do that?”

 _Oops_ , _too strong,_ thought Adrien with a wince. Right, Nathanaël wasn't quite comfortable in his role yet. He could dish it, couldn't quite take it. Pacing. It was all in the pacing. They'd get into real banter eventually.

In the meantime, Ladybug snapped her fingers and _they_ snapped to attention.

“Now, we've had our fun, but we need to deal with this. I mean, if this akuma has access to all the pigeons in Paris, he might as well have an army.”

“Yes, but he coos,” Chat Noir very reasonably pointed out.

Ladybug raised a finger to protest, but couldn't quite come up with a counterargument to that. “Well, he is still an akuma. Let's go.”

Thank goodness Nathalie had packed antihistamines in his backpack. After all, it wouldn't do if a model of Adrien's calibre was seen with a runny nose and irritated eyes. An Agreste always looked picture perfect.

But still, that was a lot of feathers.

 

\--

 

It took about fifteen minutes.

He sneezed so hard he near folded in half. _Damn it_. This was only going to be the first of many, many sneeze today. Right on cue, he sniffed, feeling his nose running and his eyes watering already.

“Dang it, I knew I was taking them too late…”

Ladybug turned back to him, averting her eyes from the pigeon formations in the sky.

“Hush, Paon. We'll be discovered if you keep that up.”

“Not...” he sniffed, his voice coming out as much more restrained and nasal than usual. “Not doing this on purpose.”

Now the annoyance faded. “Are you sick?”

Paon should have felt horrible for the warmth in his chest, for being so happy at her concern. But he couldn't find it in himself to care. He grinned, puffing up a bit.

“Prepare yourself for some cosmic-level of irony.” He paused, both to scratch his itchy nose and to give his teammates time to mentally shield themselves. Then, he leaned closer and stage whispered “I am allergic to feathers.”

Chat Noir and Ladybug both stared at him blankly.

“You're kidding…” Chat Noir threw his arms in the air. “I mean, you're wearing feathers on your face _right now_.”

Through colossal efforts alone did Paon Bleu not burst out laughing. They were reacting more or less how he imagined they would, cursing the world for its stupid sense of irony. It almost made his teary eyes worth it. Almost.

“Magic,” he replied smugly.

Chat Noir scoffed in disgust, grumbling something like 'but of course' under his breath. Poor Nath. Though, if he were honest with himself, he would admit to being slightly more interested in Ladybug's subdued reaction. Her brows were furrowed together, and her voice quiet. “And you didn't tell us earlier?”

“Well, yeah. But I think 'allergic to feathers' is a _tad_ too incriminating for my secret identity.” Paon grimaced when Ladybug flinched at his words. He hadn't meant to sound like he accused her or anything. So, more softly, “Do either of you guys even know anyone with that allergy?”

Not that he was pointedly looking at Ladybug or anything. Hint hint, nudge nudge.

...No? No. She had only pointed out to Alya that he couldn't be Paon Bleu because of his feather allergy. And now, she had definite proof and confession by the man himself, that yes, Paon Bleu did have the exact same allergy as Adrien Agreste. Nothing suspicious. Nothing to see.

At this point, he would have to put it down to willful blindness. Ladybug didn't want to share secret identities yet, so she blocked every hint either consciously or subconsciously. Or maybe Juuno's glamour spell was heavy enough to squash a whale.

And he was the Kwami of Truth? Lies! All nothing but the vilest lies!

His miraculous sent a spike of heat into his chest, and Adrien flinched. Okay, no mockingly accusing his kwami of lying while he was fused to his miraculous.

“I didn't even know that allergy existed,” Chat Noir admitted, blushing and rubbing the back of his head.

“I did...” Ladybug said a moment later. Before Adrien could hope however, she shrugged it off. “Well, can you still help? Or is this going to be crippling?”

He shrugged. “Depends on what we'll be doing, I guess.”

 

\--

 

Bored. He was bored. So bored. His nose itched and he was standing in a park in full costume hoping to fool pigeons into kidnapping him. Oh yeah, the cap would totally fool the akuma. Though, credit where credit was due, it might fool a pigeon. Because those birds were recognized for their intelligences!

And to think he shared a general classification with those flying demons...

 _Well_ , he thought as he scanned the empty park, _it's not like they are here yet._ Which brought him back to his previous predicament: his boredom.

Because his Princess was a considerate partner, she had given him the easy job. Stand around in a park with an officer's cap, and try to attract birds. Ladybug and Chat Noir would follow and free him with the rest of the kidnapped people. However, because his Princess was also a very focused person, she sometimes forgot simple details like him being allergic to feathers and being the person to be taken in a swarm of them.

Damn him and his desire to please. He had completely lacked the courage to remind her of that detail. So, he waited, a bit anxiously, for his kidnapping. Which wasn't coming. No sir. Nu-uh.

He had ants in his legs. For the love of Truth, could something fun and not at all boring happen in the next five seconds? He was ready to be kidnapped, oh mighty Mr. Pigeon!

Paon Bleu tapped his boot on the ground, crossing his arms over his chest. Any minute now. Any minute...

Oh, screw it!

“Paon! Paon, what are you doing?!” Ladybug hissed.

“Dancing,” he said, passing by the tree they were hiding in whilst moonwalking.

“He's got some moves...” Chat Noir said slowly, the corners of his mouth twitching furiously. “So, huh, what about you, Ladybug? Feeling like joining him on the dance floor yet?”

So, okay, Paon Bleu _did_ trip, but that was purely because of the shock of hearing their shy teammate say that. Who knew he had it in him?

 

\--

 

“Wait, how is an army of pigeons going to threaten us at all? They're pigeons, for crying out loud!” Chat Noir wondered, looking at the assembled birds in confusion.

Then, with a mixture of incredulity and fear when the birds all turned and lifted their tail feathers.

“You had to ask,” Ladybug growled.

“Dovely...” Paon groaned and sneezed.

 

\--

 

He also sneezed just as they prepared to steal the cursed item. Today was just not his day...

“I'm really starting to egret coming out to fight today.”

At least, he still got it.

\--

 

By the end of today, his nose was just ready to be amputated. Adrien never wanted to see or hear of a feather again.

Nathalie had not needed lie-detecting powers to know he had gone out. She had just taken one look at his puffy eyes and his running nose and sighed.

“I am not asking questions about where you go during most akuma attacks, Adrien. I trust that you try to take care of yourself as well as can be. And I keep it from your father, because we both know you would be forced to quit public school. But, I must ask now, why did you go out when the akuma is one that can control all the pigeons in Paris?”

That was an excellent question. Now, if only he had an answer to give her that did not make him look either guilty or reckless.

“Well, huh...”

He startled at the pair of hands that grabbed his shoulders. Nathalie was giving him a stern look, and there were hints of something else beneath.

“Adrien, you realize that akuma attacks are dangerous, don't you?”

It should have carried condescension, exasperation, but all Adrien felt was the trembling of Nathalie's fingers on his shoulders, the slight tremor of her lips. _You realize that you could get hurt, don't you? That you're not invincible. All it takes is a stray hit from one of those monsters..._

One poorly timed jump. One moment of hesitation. An unlucky break. Anything and everything.

Smiling was harder than usual. The lies came stilted, his eyes refusing to meet hers. “Nathalie. The only reason I'm having such a reaction is because I lost my pills during the attack and had to run back here through streets covered in feathers.” It felt like cold slime oozing from his lips. Like shame pushing his mind off the games of Paon Bleu and back to the reality of Adrien Agreste. “I'm not stupid.”

At this, Nathalie's brow arched. Her eyes suddenly made him feel seen through, as if he were nothing more than a transparent statue. There were words on the tip of her tongue. Something typically Nathalie, cold and stern, not without its fair share of wisdom. Maybe 'all teenagers are stupid'.

Instead, she sighed. “Very well, I'll notify the make-up artists this evening. In the meantime, Adrien, try not to make it worse than it is.”

Well, unless another bird-themed akuma suddenly revealed itself to Paris in the coming five minutes, Adrien felt he should be alright. “Sure thing, Nathalie,” he said while hiding a sniffle.

She shot him an unimpressed look eerily reminiscent of his father's.

“Good, now let's get inside and get this contest over with.”

Adrien nodded as Nathalie tapped on her tablet a few times. A quick glance showed him a video conference call. _Oh_ , he thought with relief and dismay in equal measures, _right, Father wouldn't come all the way over to the school for just a little contest like this._

His father's image appeared on the device, as stern as ever, and he greeted Nathalie without warmth, which she returned as they usually did. Afterwards though, his gaze flicked toward his son. “Adrien,” he acknowledged with a nod. “I see we will need to notify the make-up artists about your allergies again.”

“Already done, sir,” Nathalie chimed in.

“Good. Now walk me through the designs so I can choose a somewhat competent winner.”

Nathalie nodded quickly. “Of course, sir.”

Adrien did not need to be told to follow. He'd been to enough of these proceedings to know how they usually went down. Though, if he were honest with himself, he'd say that he was hoping to catch a glimpse of a pig-tailed girl amongst the contestants. Marinette liked sewing, didn't she?

His model smile threatened to falter as his eyes skimmed over the crowd. No Marinette there, though he held a slight hope alive at the sight of Alya and a still empty stand.

“Mr. Agreste, it's an honour to meet you!” said the principal. “Let me show you our talented students!”

Nathanaël, surprisingly, had presented his own design. Adrien had had no idea his superhero partner had an eye for designs. Well, the stitches were clearly a bit amateurish, but the hat popped from the rest with a rusty orange shade, contrasting the much darker designs of the rest of the students. It was already a point in his favour, in Adrien's book, but the real kicker was the grandfather clock and golden chains elements resting on the left side. Whether intentionally or accidentally, he had given it an autumnal feel to the hat. Not bad for a first try.

Adrien grinned, and Nathanaël smiled back, if discreetly.

His father hummed thoughtfully, neither criticizing or praising the work. Which could either be great or terrible. Adrien felt nervous for Nathanaël now. He knew firsthand that his Father did not sugarcoat his opinions, especially not when it came to fashion.

“Not bad, but the stitching needs work. It counteracts the design's impact and makes it appear like a teenager's work instead of a professional. Work on your basic skills before going into creative designs. Next.”

Nathanaël nodded, trying to hide a grimace. From the look on his face, he had expected as much, but it was still a bitter pill to swallow. Knowing his father, Adrien's classmate had at least avoided the more blatantly destructive comments Gabriel Agreste could dish out.

Adrien followed Nathalie around, eyeing the derby hats, sometimes praying his father would not force him to try them on. The couple with the idea of the cactus derby hat had won point for crazy originality, certainly, but those needles looked a bit too wobbly and pointy to be safe.

The judging round had nearly reached its end when Adrien caught sight of his Princess, running inside with a box under her arm. With the grace he knew her for, she stealthily avoided attention and slid by Alya, laying her creation atop her stand.

Adrien missed what words were exchanged between the two best friends, but he tensed as he heard Alya growl something like 'that lying _bitch_!'

And then he saw Chloé's handiwork.

Adrien's heart sank. Wisps of dark blue circled around her work, their tendrils reaching for Chloé and Sabrina both. The image was sickening, and he had to keep his nerves in check as they approached the stand, lest he recoil in disgust at the oozing tentacles of blue light.

“What did you do?” he whispered.

Too low for Chloé to hear. She proudly presented the hat to Adrien's father, miraculously restraining from using nicknames such as 'Uncle Gabriel' in public. At first, he didn't get it. She had a really good design. A lot of thought had been put into it, clearly, and it must have drawn inspiration from the latest akuma attack. So why did he feel so uneasy?

Why was Chloé's silhouette growing darker with every second?

His ears caught furious whispering coming from Marinette's direction. He hazarded a quick glance their way and froze. The tangles of lies crawling over the hat made sense now. An identical copy of Chloé's hat rested on top of Marinette's stand.

His blood drained from his face.

 _She stole it. Chloé actually stole Marinette's design. Ripped off. Presented it first as if she was the legitimate artist that had put_ actual **effort** _into the contest._

How dare she? He... Adrien could scarcely find the words. Dull pain spread in the palm of his hands, where his fingers dug into his flesh. Thief. Anger churned under his skin, sloshing within him like molten lead. How dare she? What did she think happened to those accused of plagiarism in the fashion industry?!

And the worst of it, the absolute worst part was how Chloé threw herself against her stand, hiding her lack of tears and regret behind a ridiculously overplayed grief that lacked any sort of righteous anger. She lied. Badly. To his father, to him, to the whole competition, and _expected to get away with it_.

Adrien's fists unclenched as he saw not only Nathanaël, but also Juleka and Rose running to come to Marinette's defence.

“Sir, please, you have to–”

“It's okay, Nathanaël.” Marinette pushed past the red-head. “I got this.”

Adrien felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up straight. Akumas fell when Ladybug spoke with that tone of pure steel. He did not imagine the slight shudder of fear that shook Chloé's body before she pushed a scowl back on her face.

And yet again, Adrien's heart fluttered while his Princess snatched victory away from the jaws of pettiness.

\--

 

He willed himself to be patient, even as he massaged his forehead and held his phone tight against his ear. The throes of anger still burned in his chest, and he did not want to snap. But Chloé immediately started whining, and her voice was giving him a headache. “It's done. The competition is over, Chloé.”

“Adrien, you don't understand! You have to convince your father to change his mind!”

Regardless of the fact that Adrien had never had that kind of influence over his father, he still had to stop and blink. “What?”

“He can't promote Marinette's design! She's a witch! Have you seen what she did to me? It's not fair!”

He translated Chloé-speak in his mind, not that it was particularly difficult this time. _I should have gotten away with cheating even after I was caught. How mean of Marinette not to let me gloat and profit from her hard work. I deserve it after all the time I spent telling Sabrina to spy on her and commissioning an actual designer to make it for me._

It was official. Chloé had indulged her whimsies and fancies so often and so recklessly that she had gotten stuck in her own little fantasy world where nothing had consequences. He wasn't sure what the swirl of cold and heat in his guts meant. He wanted to be angry with her, and in fact, he was, very much so, but at the same time, he was starting to actually worry.

Did André Bourgeois see what he had done to his daughter by spoiling her that _rotten_? It was almost like talking to a little child half her age. A particularly bratty one at that.

She needed a serious dose of reality, and a big one, fast. He wouldn't put it past her to be mugged and whine her way into being stabbed. God forbid she ever left Paris. What would she even do outside of her father's area of influence?

Adrien at least owed the little girl that had been his friend. Readying himself, he willed his voice not to let filter too much of his anger or annoyance.

“I saw you cheat, Chloé. _My father_ saw you cheat. Why in the world would he be interested in following the wishes of a liar? Don't bother saying it's a lie. Your hat had Marinette's signature written on it.”

Chloé gaped, silent, as if shocked that someone would ever care about little things like _facts_ and _logic_ when she was crying about something. Or maybe it was because Adrikins hadn't indulged her. Surely a best friend would always take her side against her arch-enemy from whom she had stolen a design and tried to pass it as her own. Surely. “I… huh… it's a terrible design, Adrien!”

Adrien's jaws clenched. “Why would you have copied her design if you didn't know it was the best of the lot?” It was just plain insulting at this point. “I'm not stupid, and neither is my father. You cheated, you got caught. Deal with it.”

The flow of complaint started again.

“On your own.”

He clicked his phone shut.

It immediately started ringing. The song played out in its entirety before cutting off abruptly. Blessed silence stayed with him for a few moments. It was not to last. Chloé was anything if not persistent, or, in terms more appropriate for the occasion, stubborn as a mule.

For a second, he was sorely tempted to block the number. The good memories he had of Chloé had been progressively replaced by newer, fresher ones, and each of them chipped away at his patience. Snide words. Cutting remarks. Whining. Bullying. “Wait till my father hears about this.”

Did she even realize that she spent most of her time quoting Draco Malfoy? What did that tell him about his self-proclaimed best friend's character?

After a minute of contemplation, Adrien pushed on the mute button and resolved to ignore his buzzing phone.

His homework was done for the day, the next photoshoot would be tomorrow evening, and he had an hour and a half before his schedule caught up with him. Of course, he turned to his computer, and wore his crown, more commonly referred to as 'headset'.

Swiftly, he wrote a message on his browser and activated their voice chat. “Hey, Nino, you there?”

“Hey, nice to hear from the man himself!” Nino's voice filled Adrien's headset.

“Yeah, I got an hour to kill before my piano lessons.”

“Aww, and you want to spend it killing zombies with me?” Nino teased, sounding immensely touched. “Dude, you shouldn't have!”

“I don't have anyone else on my Steam friend list,” Adrien deadpanned.

Nino must have been smirking, because he sounded rather amused. “You've got all you need right there anyway. Now, let's start with some good old gunfighting.”

“Sounds good to me,” Adrien replied, and it did. Today's events had managed to enrage him, but it hadn't yet been dispelled. The impression lingered. Chloé's voice, distorted by his phone's speakers, rang again to his ears.

The idea of brutally destroying zombies through harmless virtual violence truly appealed to his uglier sentiments.

And no angel on his shoulder wished to talk him out of it. Juuno had long since established that he would _not_ look at his chosen creating showers of gore and blood. The very first time, the poor little blue blob of jello had squawked in horror so loud he'd near broken his voice. He had fussed and fussed over Adrien, wondering how bad the psychological impacts of such a thing were on Adrien's psyche. It had been... an interesting discussion, to say the least. Not that he had convinced Adrien to give up on his precious video game time.

His kwami scoffed, something about 'kids these days' and he floated away to sulk with a magazine and a blueberry yogurt.

Thus, Adrien destroyed to his heart's content, letting his mind wander away from the sting of anger. Easy, mindless fun, and quipping. Unfortunately, Nino was leading in the scores. That called for some drastic measures.

“So, duuuude,” Adrien drawled, “how are things with you and Alya?”

On the screen, Nino's character jerked wildly left, straight into Adrien's line of fire. The supremely badass commander of the enemy assault force dropped down to the ground like a bag of potato, and Adrien could not resist taunting his friend further. He switched his weapons from automatic gun to crowbar, and happily swung into the corpse.

“Uncool! This is supposed to be bro time. Cool bros don't try to cheat their ways to victory.” Nino grumbled, his mic growing silent for a couple of minutes. Then, as Adrien's character rounded around a corner, Nino's voice rose again. “What about you, angelface? One of your thousands of fangirls gives you the hots?”

Adrien's mind supplied him with a vivid image of a thousand Chloés all trying to kiss him at the same time. As a purely instinctive defensive response, his body froze, his character coming to a complete halt just in time to be showered with bullets.

“Nino!”

“Hey, you're the one that started it. I'm just finishing it like a responsible bro.”

“Except you aren't a responsible bro.” Which, considering he could not lie, was actually a bit concerning.

Chuckles rang inside Adrien's headset. At least his friend was taking it in good humour. “Dude.”

“Dude,” Adrien replied with the exact same tone of voice.

It was a mistake to challenge his friend this way. Nino had long since mastered the art of being a bro. His voice rising in the headset, he stretched on the note on the whiniest and friendliest note possible, never pausing to take a breath until Adrien could feel the hairs on his arms standing straight.

“Impressive,” Adrien snickered.

“Seriously though, not one of them interests you?”

“They're all screaming my name, Nino.” He shook his controller slightly as his character repeatedly failed to hit a charging undead monstrosity. The resemblance with his more fanatical fangirls was scary. “That doesn't allow you to have great conversations. Some of them, I wonder if they can even say anything besides my name.”

“Still, you are a model. Surely you've met some girls you'd like to go out with.”

Adrien fell silent, clicking faster and with more focus. Yeah. There was a girl. A real princess, crowned protector of Paris. Bakers' daughter. Her smile, sweet as sugar, her skin soft like cookie dough, her lips...

Adrien's spine tingled as heat coloured his cheeks red as cherry. He wondered. Was his Princess wearing some chapstick? What flavor would it be? He found himself searching for his memories of Ladybug, to scan through his mind for the smallest details, anything and everything. What he loved most might just have been the parts that melted between Ladybug and Marinette.

It was so easy. Sometimes, they were so alike he marvelled at the thought that no one else had put it together. Others, he rejoiced at the knowledge that he alone knew this part of Ladybug. Of Marinette.

“ _Is Marinette in love with Chat Noir?”_

Juuno's words stopped him right in his track. He was getting too ahead of himself. Too lost in the knowledge of who she was behind the mask to consider that no one else knew such a thing. Nathanaël alone knew that Paon Bleu was keeping this secret.

His stomach twisted. Was it fair to confess to Marinette because he knew her secret identity?

Would he even like Marinette, if he didn't know?

It… he liked Marinette! That was not a lie. Never had been. Even when she had first gotten mad at him, he had been more impressed than anything else. And today… wow. Adrien did not think he could deal with plagiarism half as well as she had. _Father_ had been impressed.

But she never got over her fear of talking to him. She froze over. She defrosted only when he did a pun, and only for flashes of confusion or annoyance before going back to starstruck. What did he know of her besides what anyone else in their class did? That she was an impressive designer, that she could sew, and bake, and she had a clumsy streak, and that she liked Jagged Stone. That she periodically became the greatest superhero in all of Paris, side by side with him and Nathanaël.

How many words had they spoken together? Dreadfully few, he realized with a cold feeling in his guts. Never just them together. Always with Alya and Nino, because otherwise Marinette froze. Should he be the one to make the first step? To insist a bit more on hanging out?

The real Marinette, the Marinette that was made of stuff like Ladybug, she only ever appeared in quick burst around him. But around other people? It could emerge at any time. She was always so uneasy around him, it was maddening!

“Adrien? Dude, are you still there?” Nino's voice rang in his ears. “Adrien, you've been still for three minutes straight.” Then, much lower and grumpier, “Did his Internet freeze? Holy crap, even super rich dudes can have Internet connection troubles.”

“Sorry about that,” Adrien said, without correcting his friend's assumption. The thrums beneath his skin told him he would start stumbling on his words if he tried.

“A-ah, no worry,” Nino said a bit frantically. Probably surprised by the sudden return of Adrien's voice. “You okay?”

“Eh, could be better.”

He tried to return to the game, but his performance had become off. He couldn't quite get back into it. Questions swirled in his mind. What should he do about Ladybug? The Truth knew how much he loved her, but he... he didn't know what to do about it. Ladybug could only know what he put forth as Paon, but they were more than their superhero identities. They were two teenagers underneath, and Marinette never seemed comfortable talking to him.

And it felt singularly dishonest to try and get her to like Paon Bleu through Adrien Agreste.

If she had to fall for him, he wanted it to be through him.

 

\--

 

He soared mindlessly over the rooftops, landing and leaping in the same breaths, his eyes looking without seeing, his thoughts lost.

Juuno would say he was overthinking it. The solution was exceedingly simple: talk to Marinette. He could ask Nino for her address, then ring the doorbell and ask for a couple of minutes of her time. Clear the air between them, help her get over her unease. It would be so simple.

And it made him break into cold sweat. So many things could go wrong. What if, by being truthful, he was forced to say something that hurt her feelings? What if he made it worse? Maybe her discomfort wasn't anything he did. Maybe it was just how she felt about him.

He could let it slip he knew she was Ladybug.

He could let it slip he was Paon Bleu.

He could ruin everything forever.

_Forever. Always._

Paon came to an abrupt right on top of the Grand Palace. His mind flew back to that evening together on top of Notre-Dame. Ladybug's smile eclipsed the sunset behind her, and the tenderness of her touch fought off the cold winds. _“You will always be important to me. Always.”_

_Forever. Always._

Paon sighed. The wind was whipping his scarf behind his neck, pulling, and with a half-turn, he looked down the length of the Seine. Beneath him, the Grand Palace's famous glass roof let filter a pale blue light that clung to his skin. For a second, he heard all of his fears whispered back to him. Weren't they a ridiculous thing?

Human. Beautifully human, Juuno would say with his knowing smile.

“...She just won a contest by Agreste Inc. though,” he said, somber once more. “Better not look too friendly with her while that is still being sorted. It wouldn't look good for her if people thought I'd convinced Father to intercede in her favour.”

Which, again, was influence he did not possess. But most people would believe he did. And if someone listened to Chloé's rambling, this could do a lot of damage.

But afterwards, he would find a moment to just talk to Marinette. After a quick consultation with Nino, Juuno and possibly Alya. Now, he would not so desperate as to ask Nathalie or the Gorilla...

Well, it _couldn't_ hurt, right?

Adrien jolted himself back into the real world, away from all that _distant speculation_ about the future and what one little bird might have to do and the world of heat and warmth and bubbliness. It would happen, he promised himself. But not now. Not if it could hurt his Princess' dreams. In the meantime, Paris awaited her blue bird.

He launched himself away from the roof of the Grand Palace, momentarily bracing himself against the rails of the nearest bridge, then kept going. Kept going, away, further, just losing himself in the sensation of the wind and the lights below flowing like rivers of miniature suns in the night.

 

\--

 

His knees protested when he landed on the dark grey rooftop, his lungs still burning from the feeling of exertion. With a breathless laugh, the superhero leaned against the walls of a water tower, his mind still on the robbery he had helped foiled. He had left just after he first officer had arrived, content despite the high amounts of adrenaline in his veins.

Tonight had been a regrettably fruitful night in terms of solo patrols. Besides the robbery, there had been at least two gangs attempting to beat up and rob some poor soul unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The key word being 'attempting' as Paon Bleu had expressed with his mouth, then with his fists, how disappointed he was in those bastards.

They thought they could take him. He had gladly proven them mistaken.

And now, his heartbeat struggled to settle whilst Adrien drank in the exhilarating feeling of triumph. He needed a minute or two. Then he'd get on the last leg of his favourite patrol route, just in time to tuck himself into bed at an unreasonable hour.

For such a simple plan, it was horrendously easy to derail. Walking near the ledge of the roof, his eyes caught sight of Ladybug's confident smirk down the alley.

Adrien forgot to breath. The mural must have been a story high, and twice as large.

What really had him frozen however was the subject painted. Other people had posted some arts of Ladybug, Paon and Chat. Enough had been gathered for Alya to make some masterposts and regroup them all in weekly occurrences. While some showed lack of experience though no lack of enthusiasm, some were pretty good, with wild strokes of colours and incredible attention to details. His personal favourite had been up until now a painting depicting Ladybug in the middle of battle with Stoneheart, surrounded by the Restoration spell.

Nathanaël's work might be just the thing to top that. Both Paon and Ladybug had been caught in mid-jump. Cut into the sunset, the two figures on the wall laughed, privy to a joke only they knew. Adrien decided that it must have been a reaction to one of his excellent puns. Regardless, the painting seemed to come alive a bit more with every swirl of paint Nathanaël added to the wall. A flush of blue, and Paon's scarf whipped to the wind; touches of white, and Ladybug's eyes became shining focus. They were ready to take on the world, and looking at the painting, it was hard not to feel the same way. Rather than grin as he had wanted to do, Adrien found himself frowning. Chat Noir wasn't in the picture.

A moment later however, Adrien realized he had been wrong.

Chat Noir was crouched in the lower right corner, his posture that of a feline ready to pounce, and conveniently out of focus amongst the shadows painted. At a first glance, he was easy to miss, and Adrien had no idea how to feel about that.

He knew his teammate was uncomfortable in the spotlight, but he still couldn't tell if he _wanted_ to be and believed he didn't deserve to.

For a few seconds, Adrien debated with himself on making his presence known. Part of it felt private, something still being worked through. Father had always loathed people looking at his half-finished sketches. The only thing others could have begged to approach were the final result. The labour of love and the fruit of countless hours of revision, sealing away patches of his imagination till only what he deemed worthy was ever revealed of his soul.

He would have left...

But his eyes kept gliding to Chat Noir in the shadows.

“You know, seen from this angle, even I think my hair is a bit ridiculous. Awesome painting though.”

The redhead whirled around, looking ready to bolt for the hills. His turquoise eyes went from shrunken to normal the second he recognized Paon Bleu's iconic outfit, and the cheerful, joking voice.

“Oh, huh,” Nathanaël stuttered, blushing, “I was hoping to show you the whole thing when it was completed.”

“Well, that's still pretty dang good right now. How long have you been at it now?”

Nathanaël rolled the can of spray paint in his hands, barely looking at him. “Just a little under three days. I... I got the idea after talking to you.”

Paon Bleu let out a low whistle. “Three days? That's even more impressive. I'm not going to ask if you found the time to go to school, because I saw you there. Instead, I'll ask if you slept at all.”

He was only half-joking. Adrien's own sleeping schedule had shrunken a fair amount since getting his brooch. So far, it had failed to affect his appearance, nothing a little make-up wouldn't hide. Nathanaël though obviously couldn't afford it, or didn't know how to apply some to himself. There were hints of his fatigue on his face, traces of bags under his eyes, his skin a little paler.

“I did. I haven't done a lot of work otherwise, but still. I... I had to leave my mark on Paris somehow. Something that was more _me_ than...” Nathanaël stopped before mentioning his other identity, but it was on both their lips. “Just...” Quieter, “it's something I can do.”

“We don't doubt you, Nath,” Paon replied, uneasy. “You know that.”

The young artist sighed. For a second, he seemed to meld within his own painting, his grey jacket becoming pavement, his hair fusing with the sunset. Chat Noir's feral glare was aimed at him. “Yeah, I know. It's just... it feels like there is more I should be doing to help. You guys trust me, but I can't... have I ever made the difference in an akuma fight since I joined you?”

“Yes,” Paon said without hesitation. “The first time we met. I'd just gotten injured and the akuma was charging Ladybug before she could use the Lucky Charm. You used Cataclysm and sent it plummeting down, remember?”

“That was just one time.”

Paon stared, unimpressed by the tendrils of blue light reaching from Nathanaël's silhouette. “Do I need to list your actual accomplishments? Because I can. And you can't deny any of them when it's me saying it.”

He chuckled softly. “Sorry. I don't mean to be a burden, this whole superhero thing is just... overwhelming, you know?”

Adrien couldn't agree. It would have been the right thing to say, but his lips were fused together. Being a hero had never seemed so complicated. It was rather refreshingly direct. All of his desires and emotions focused in a single direction toward clear enemies and the likes. His internal turmoils tormented him far more.

Nathanaël noticed his pause stretching on. The small camaraderie they had built began to crumble, Nath's smile shrinking as he looked down. And Adrien's mind had blanked. There must have been words to say, a truth to give that would help, but he couldn't find it. His miraculous hadn't allowed him to _help_ his friend.

Resentment bubbled up inside him. Indignation at the unmoving miraculous on his chest. Disappointment. He was a hero, wasn't he? _Heroes help people._ His teeth grinded together. Why couldn't he find the words to explain?

“Nath,” he said, “there is nothing wrong with your feelings. It's just human.”

Human. Wonderfully human. Juuno loved to say that. As if there could be something wonderful about the mess of feelings that left them so confused and feeling inadequate. That the most precious part of his current life was the same thing weighing down his friend.

_But he said it, it's the Truth._

“Sorry,” Nathanaël said ruefully, rubbing the back of his head. “It's hard to remember that sometimes.”

“Preach to the choir.” Paon smirked, pleased to see his teammate feeling a bit more lively. “You'll get the hang of it eventually. Just gotta practice. It's a bit like arts this way.”

Nathanaël's eyes narrowed on his work, thoughtful. “I can see it.”

“Great,” Paon said. “I'll leave you to it then. Do tell when it's finished, I wanna see Ladybug's reaction!”

Without waiting any longer, Adrien bounced over the wall – on the side facing the mural, he'd blame himself for weeks if he damaged Nathanaël's work. Waving, he bound his friend farewell, not really thinking much of what it appeared. He broke into a run, trying not to hear the exchange playing again inside his head.

But on his left, he heard a shadow touch the ground, and then Chat Noir was running side by side with him, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Paon, are you okay?”

“Huh?”

_Yes, very intelligent and sophisticated, Adrien._

He slowed to a halt next to a chimney, his grip tight around the bricks while he tried to gaze back to his teammate without giving away the knot of unease tying his stomach. “What do you mean, 'are you okay'? Did I seem unwell to you?”

A low buzz pulsed from the brooch on his chest. And if he focused, Adrien could almost make out the words within. Yet, he couldn't. Not with Chat Noir staring at him so intently.

“Paon. About the other day, I've kept thinking about what you said. I'm grateful, I really am. I probably needed to hear that. And what you said... I can't help but wonder... Are you okay?”

Adrien forced himself to show one of his model smiles.

“I'm not injured,” he said, and fought back a grimace brought about by the jolt of pain in his jaw. Freaking magical contract! It couldn't let him brood in peace.

Nathanaël arched one eyebrow behind his mask. “I meant, in your civilian life?”

The last of his escapades high faded with that simple question. Paon flinched. He hadn't wanted to hear or think about this tonight. Those little words dug under his skin, looked for the cracks in his soul, and they poked. They reached just inside the bleeding, and he remembered his own childish questions. _Why? Why aren't you looking? Look at me, Father. Please._

“Chat,” he croaked, then coughed.

Adrien swallowed thickly. There was no way for him to lie about it. He couldn't pretend he didn't understand the question. Refusing to answer was as good as screaming at the top of his lungs that no, he wasn't okay. But a strange sense of shame crept up on him, lingering with poisonous words in his ears. What right had he had to be unhappy? He was Adrien Agreste, a young supermodel with everything money could buy, a successful teen heartthrob destined for success. And yet, the words that came were the truth.

“Before this year, I was miserable.”

And at once, he let himself crash on the tiles, a jolt of pain jumping up from the base of his spine. He had said it. Damn Juuno. Damn the Truth.

He dared not look right where he heard the rustle of leather, where he caught glimpse of Chat Noir sitting down. They were both staring at the city's skyline, both pretending not to be able to see the other.

“I figured it was something like that,” Chat Noir whispered. “You gave me some pretty obvious hints. But even before that, I was wondering what kind of person would be Paon Bleu. I decided it was either someone really happy or someone that really _wanted_ to be happy.”

A bemused smile. “You thought I was worth figuring out. Me?”

Chat Noir looked at him strangely. “One of two modern superheroes in Paris. You thought someone wouldn't want to know about you?”

“Well...” he trailed off, one hand reached out as if to grasp the horizon. “The other superhero around is Ladybug.”

Nathanaël was the one to chuckle this time, and his gaze held a mixture of tenderness and admiration. A forlorn sentiment beneath it all. “Yeah, Ladybug is epic. Absolutely leader material.”

Adrien imagined he must have looked like that whilst thinking of Ladybug too. It made something pinch at his heart, but even that was a fading feeling. It did not seem to bother him nearly as much as before.

“But, you know,” Chat started anew, “that makes you stand out too. Some people consider you her sidekick, others, her partner.” – Paon Bleu sighed – “You're kind of the underdog. You don't shine as bright, but you certainly shine in your own right. I saw videos of the events you attended. You're pretty at ease with the public.”

“I had to learn. I couldn't afford to stay bothered by the attention. It turned out useful for public speaking, at least.” He cleared his throat and stood straight with one hand over his heart and the other at his side. “Now, I can go ' **Citizens of Paris, heed my word!'** without spontaneously dying of shame.”

“The lack of shame explains the puns, I guess,” Chat deadpanned.

Paon rolled his eyes. “There is nothing shameful about my puns. And I said it, that makes it the Truth.”

One hand suddenly seizing, Chat fell on his back, dramatically gasping and wheezing. For a split second, Paon's blood pressure spiked, until he saw the mocking smile on Chat's face.

“My vision of the world has been shattered. Puns are actually meant to be _funny_!”

Paon wanted to feel indignant, but staring at a fairly talented Nathanaël acting out the world-shattering revelation made it impossible. It was the same reaction he expected every time he opened his mouth nowadays, and this was so mindbogglingly silly that he was doing everything in his power not to giggle like a schoolgirl.

“You throw a lot of shade, sidekick number two,” he said.

“Learned from the best, sidekick number one.”

“You should spend less time emulating Ladybug then,” Paon Bleu said without thinking. When the words registered however, he felt a frown form.

His mask must have hidden it however, for Chat Noir shrugged, rather unbothered. “That's fine. I'm actually aiming for you.”

... For him? Whatever reply he had thought of, it was forgotten. Juuno's words were ever present at the back of his mind. His kwami truly never lied, did he?

“Ladybug is just...” Nathanaël couldn't find the word that would encompass everything Ladybug was. Which, to be fair, was a sentiment Adrien shared. “She's our leader, and I don't want to take it away from her. Heck, I wouldn't take it if she offered.”

 _It must be her_ , Adrien thought in agreement. _Ladybug has the personality of a queen._ Whilst he, little bird on her shoulder, was more like the jester. Or the knights. He could do both, so long as she smiled.

“With you though,” Nathanaël continued, “it seems possible. You are Ladybug's rock. You're her support during fights, and outside of them too.” He half-turned toward the alley where his mural waited. “I don't mind being overshadowed. I'm more comfortable out of the spotlight. I just want to help.”

“You're a fast learner, huh?” Paon punched Chat's shoulder, feeling both happy and a little foolish. “First thing to know about superheroism is simple: you have to try to help people. So, yeah, don't worry about it. You're already a good hero.”

It must have been impossible for Chat Noir to smile any wider than that. The incredulity in that gaze was familiar to Adrien, but here and now, he wanted to think they could both be better than that. They could look on over Paris and do everything in their power to protect it. All they needed to was to want it.

Adrien's daydream was pierced by the shrill beeping of an alarm. With a jolt, he looked back to his miraculous, on whom the last two eyes were flashing.

“Oops. I might wanna go now. Otherwise, I'm going to break Ladybug's command twice in a row.”

“Wait! Huh... You want to come back to my place later?” Chat Noir asked with a sudden hesitation that was all poor Nathanël. “I mean, feel free. It's… I don't know how we could make it work, and it'd be nice if you could warn me beforehand the next times, but I'd… I'd be okay with you coming over, even just as Paon.”

Warmth seeped into Adrien's chest. “Sounds good,” he said, only afterwards realizing that they were the same words he had told Nino before. Strangely appropriate, all in all. “I still need to go get some blueberries though.”

The feline superhero froze in mid-crouch and fell face first against the tiles. Though back to his feet the next moment, Chat Noir's face was flushed red. Paon felt a pang of guilt for causing his partner so much embarrassment, even involuntarily. Apologetic, he cleared his throat and smiled.

“Do you still have your cans of spray paint?”

Chat Noir raised one clawed finger, then paused to look at himself. Hesitantly, he tried patting the pockets of his suit, who appeared empty. A troubled look flashed in the superhero's slitted eyes. “Hmmmm... I _think_ so? I had them with me when I transformed. Why?”

Paon Bleu eyed the nearly completed mural just barely visible from their position. Its image had already been burned in his mind, and with it, the rush of affection he felt toward Chat. It was a nice tribute to their team. It was a nice offering to Paris too.

A spark in his gaze, Paon grinned. “I'm feeling artistic tonight. I'll meet you back at your painting in five minutes!”

 

\--

 

The next morning, in the factoid section of the newspaper, many Parisians gasped or smiled in delight at the high quality picture of their superheroes immortalized amongst Paris' scenery on the side of a building. One such man had the newspapers nearly ripped from his hands by his teenaged daughter, who vowed to find that building after school today for her blog. A non-negligible number of readers, most of them in their teenaged years, burst out laughing or whooped at the complimentary picture.

On the wall next to the mural was a much cruder graffiti written in nearly as large as scale as the impressive painting. In itself, the photo would have never been published as anything of note, if not for a detail underneath its text.

“LADYBUG RULES, HAWK MOTH DROOLS!” decorated the wall in wobbly red letters.

For sole signature, the culprit had scribbled a crude blue opera mask topped with three peacock feathers.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...Today was not his day. At all.
> 
> The slight vibration from inside his jacket seemed to be Juuno, stifling his snickering. Which, okay, he had to admit was fair. But that did not prevent Adrien's hand from squeezing the spot on his jacket, because he used to be able to lie his way out of these situations!

Public school as Adrien knew it had lost its luster sometime after the first two weeks, mostly around the time it would sink in that classes were classes and learning wasn't more fun with chatter in the background. However, what Adrien loved and would keep loving about school were the people.

The crowd's voices filled his ears to the brim. Only one word out of twenty could be deciphered, but the air buzzed with this low rumbling energy, and it pushed back the memories of empty hallways out of Adrien's mind. He could have just sat down in the dining hall and listened to this all day. Unfortunately, he had classes, which he had begged his father for.

Nino was, as usual for a Monday, last minute. Five minutes before the bell rang, he would come around and rush to his locker to take his stuff and get to the classroom. Every other day of the week, Adrien's best friend would walk around laidback and chatting, but Mondays were the bane of his existence. For now, he was nowhere to be seen.

Adrien, on the other hand, had the luck of being an early bird. Or it had been beaten into him through years of conditioning as a model. He honestly didn't know, and didn't care overtly about that. Who wouldn't want to look fresh as a rose at breakfast whilst everyone else showed their best impressions of zombies?

And this morning in particular, he had a vested interest in being in school early. When Nathanaël had arrived to his locker, small bags under his eyes, Adrien had pretended to look for a few more things in his own locker, ears wide open.

“Are you okay, Nath?” he heard Juleka ask, a minute later.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I... huh...” The red-head glanced around. “It's just, someone left four wheels of Camembert in my locker.”

Juleka's nose wrinkled. “Yikes. Need help cleaning it? And what kind of jerk does that?”

If anything, Nathanaël seemed even more nervous. Pale, he held his hands in front of him. “No, no, that's not it. They were in a bag and sealed and all. No smell at all.”

Of course not. Adrien had not realized it before, but one sniff had convinced him to also get a perfectly sealed bag before he gifted those. Frankly, he had no idea how Plagg could eat that stuff, and if Juuno hadn't been the Kwami of Truth, Adrien would have thought it was a joke. Still, he could understand why Nath didn't want to buy it, prices aside.

Almost shamelessly, Adrien stopped near the locker, looking bemused at the confused teens in front of him.

Nathanaël must really have had heavy things on his mind, because he did not even realize Adrien was staring. “And whoever it was also gave me a Caran D'Ache pastel pencils set.”

Juleka's eyes widened. Her voice was even quieter than usual. “...Doesn't that cost like 100 euros?”

Nathanaël looked at her with blank eyes. “Yeah. It does.”

“Hey Nath, hey Juleka,” he greeted cheerfully.

“Hey Adrien,” they said in unison, still lost in their thoughts.

He waited for a second, smiling slyly, curious to see if either of them would remember that he was a friendly and rich supermodel. Probably not, seeing as they were both staring at the wheels of Camembert like they were going to explode.

Oh well, he shrugged. Today was not the day Chat Noir found out about Paon's secret identity. Distantly, he wondered if the glamour would have prevented Nathanaël from piecing it together anyway.

\--

“Hello, Ladybloggers! This is Alya for another exclusive interview with Ladybug and Paon Bleu. Unfortunately, Chat Noir couldn’t make it today, but we’ll make due with the original duo.”

Chat Noir had asked to be excused, unconvincingly claiming to have other things to do. To the observant person, one might notice that the cat boy had been blushing to the point of looking as red as his hair.

_Still not a fan of the cameras, Nath?_

“Alright, viewers. So, apparently, some of you are still sceptical about Paon Bleu's vow to never lie.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “It's magic, Alya! Not a vow.”

“Irrelevant, Birdie.” She waved the pointy finger at him. “The point is that a portion of my loyal viewers aren't convinced that you always tell the truth. Especially since...”

He made a cutting motion across his neck.

“Ahem,” Alya cleared her throat, looking not at all perturbed, “anyway, I felt it was my journalistic duty to put that statement to the test.”

Paon felt his brows raise behind his mask. “A test?”

Ladybug looked suspiciously amused. And when he shot her a curious look, she merely pretended to inspect her fingernail. Which was all the more worrying since they were hidden beneath her suit.

Alya whipped up a pen. “Say 'This pen is green.' sincerely.”

Paon Bleu stared, unimpressed by the very deep blue pen wiggled between Alya's fingers. Ironically enough, it looked fairly close to the colour of a total lie.

“This is a waste of time, Alya…” He sighed. If that was the whole test, he could already tell it wasn't going to convince anyone.

But that was forgetting the resourcefulness of his Princess and her number one fan.

“Which is why we agreed to provide extra motivations!” Alya chipped in. “If you manage to say it, without alteration of meaning or phrasing, Ladybug will kiss you on the cheek!”

_You have got to be kidding me!_

“Really?” he asked, his mouth dry, his voice shaking. “But I... that pen is blue!”

A grimace found its way to his way as his miraculous thrummed in warning. Yep. The truth had slipped out easily. Almost a little too easily. Juuno must not have been very happy with him if he did something like that.

But frankly? To him, the weight of Juuno's anger evaporated like a minuscule droplets of water in a desert when Ladybug pressed her shoulder against his. A tantalizing look in her eyes, her lips so... mesmerizing, she said “Why, Birdie, don't you want a little kiss from your supreme leader?”

“You… Princess, you _know_ I can't! This is just torture!”

And judging by the malicious smirk that twisted the she-demon's lips, she knew full well how torturous this was going to be. “Are you sure you don't want a kiss?” She pouted, dangling the pen right in front of his eyes.

He snatched it quickly enough to appear desperate. Which, fair enough, he _was_. They had planned this. They had all planned this with all the cunning and malice of an actual dark lord of evil from a fantasy novel.

Ah, too clever by half! “I would love to say that this pen is green!” he said triumphantly.

“Ahem, no can do. I know your tricks, Paon.” Alya shook her head, smirking for all it was worth. “You have to say the exact sentence, nothing more, nothing less. I guess we can just forget the whole kiss thing then.”

That was actual torture. Surely, the police would arrive shortly to take away Alya and her inhumane treatment of a prisoner of war while she interrogated him. They were streaming their crime, live.

When he heard no sirens of police cars rushing over to save him, Paon growled and squeezed the damn pen.

He could do this. He could do this. It was all a matter of willpower! It didn't matter if his brooch was already buzzing against his skin, Paon Bleu would get that sweet kiss from his Princess!

“This pen is.. grrrrrrrrrrrrr… This pen is GRRRRRRR…” God, his jaw hurt. Muscles in his mouth were spasming the moment he was getting close to saying it. And he was so close he could already imagine the taste of her lips. “It's greaAAaAAA…”

Both Alya and Ladybug bust out laughing, the former somehow managing to keep her phone firmly aimed at Paon. And, incidentally, his furiously determined face.

“This. Pen. Is. GreaaaaAaAS! Juuno, don't do this to me! A kiss! It would be a dream come true! Just one. Just _one_ little white lie that won't hurt anyone. This pen is... grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrblue.”

He was going to throw away all his stashes of blueberries out. Give them to a dog. And then feed nothing but cranberry to the monster that was his kwami.

“This pen is... blue. Blue blue blue blue blue!” He could not stop. The floodgates had been opened, cruelly. “Blue as the night sky or the depths of the oceans or the sapphires that make my Princess' eyes! IT'S BLUE AND YOU'D HAVE TO BE LYING TO SAY OTHERWISE!”

With a defeated, mourning cry, Paon Bleu dropped to his knees, pouting, crying on the injustice of the world and the cruelty of womankind.

“It might look a little turquoise if you squint and use a yellow filter.”

Somehow, the two witches stopped their cackling long enough to notice his defeated look. Alya oohed, falsely disappointed if one were to judge by the smirk still well in place on her face. “So, I think we can safely conclude that Paon cannot lie no matter how tempting it is.”

This was definitely the last time he agreed to give Alya an interview. For a week. In the meantime, he shot his supreme leader a hopeful, defeated puppy look. “...Please tell me it counts?”

“Eh,” Ladybug shrugged. “I'll accept it.”

And she pushed her lips against his right cheek.

They laughed at his goofy, lovestruck grin.

They laughed a lot less when Paon Bleu proceeded to pass out, blood dripping from his mouth.

\--

Adrien's throat hurt like hell. He was an idiot. Alya and Marinette had not been at their smartest either, daring him to lie, but he was the one that jumped right in. In the meantime, he would try to take it easy on talking. Sure, Alya had given him a mint, but that only cooled the burning in his throat.

Maybe he should be taking it easy for a day or two. So, if he turned into Paon, it might be wiser not to shout at the top of his lungs as was his habit. At least, he thought with a savage satisfaction, Alya would think twice before doubting his words.

Ladybug begging for his forgiveness had been far from a pleasant sight though.

Worse was him trying to say “There's nothing to forgive”, failing and having Ladybug _notice_. His poor Princess would beat herself over that for days, he just knew it. And really, Marinette had plenty on her plate without having to feel guilty about a stupid game like that.

Sighing, Adrien ran a hand through his hair. Fine. Juuno had been right. He shouldn't have given into peer pressure and made a fool of himself in front of a camera. But... His hand lifted to touch the spot on his cheek that still felt the soft warm of his Princess' lips. He would do it again. Stupid or not. If they asked again, he would do it again and damn the consequences, because just remembering those last few seconds before passing out was like standing on a cloud or soaring through the sky.

His eyes followed the railing as he walked down the stairs, intent on joining Nino in the library as promised. As he reached the first floor however, he was distracted by a slight vibration from his pockets. His alert on the Ladyblog had been tripped.

Slowing down, Adrien opened up the latest threads of comments on Alya's video. The first one was like a punch to the guts.

' _Lame! Why are they playing this game instead of asking Paon the real questions? Bunch of superficial idiots!_ '

His fists clenched. In his jacket's pocket, Juuno had begun running soothing circles against his chest. Gentle. Reminding him to stay calm. Deep breathes. It was not going to help if he began ranting like a cat with a wounded ego. No matter how much he hated the comment directed at his friend and at his Princess.

Besides... this was the Ladyblog.

_'You're the idiot. The only reason Alya was able to get the interview was because she promised Paon not to ask that kind of questions in the first place!'_

Adrien was torn between smiling and frowning. While he liked the words spoken in defence of his Princess and their town crier, he could not help wonder how that user had actually learned this. Was it only a simple deduction? Alya had made it no secret that she would have loved nothing more than to unload all the questions she had constructed in her mind. Of course, the fact that she had the restraint not to was the part that convinced him to go along with it.

Earning their trust and proving she was worthy of keeping it was one of Alya's most admirable quality as a reporter. The temptation to slip in a few questions about this or that must have been enormous, and he had all the more respect for her that she hadn't given in.

He kept in a sigh. That wasn't the first time this kind of comments had been typed on Alya's blog either. Far from it. Lots of people were going after him now, hounding him to answer whatever came to their minds at the time. He had yet to be asked to solve some criminal mysteries, but he was waiting for the call any day. Though, of course, that required the idea that magic could constitute evidence in a court of law. Oh God, were they going to start asking him to testify in front of juries and judges?

His exciting career as a superhero would end up in flames due to him becoming a superwitness, called forth to distinguish the guilty from the innocents... Which, Adrien had to admit uneasily, might have been a far more useful use of his powers than jumping on rooftops.

“Adrien,” came a hushed whisper from within his jacket's pockets, “you don't need to worry about this now.”

“Shouldn't I, Juuno?” he whispered back, unable to even look his kwami in the eyes. “What if there are innocents being condemned or culprits being let go right now?”

“There are,” Juuno replied instantly, and Adrien felt his blood curdle. “And you are not going to preoccupy yourself with this right now. You may have power, Adrien, but you are still just a teenager. You cannot take on the weight of the world on your shoulders alone. Do not try.”

“Why not?”

“Others did,” Juuno hissed, and his voice was so cold Adrien's mouth clamped shut.

He looked away. “Sorry...”

“It is fine, Adrien.” Juuno hugged his chest gently. “I simply want you to care for your own happiness. My little chicks often forget that. None of you are omnipotent, despite your desires.”

Somber, Adrien nodded and chased away the images of previous peacocks in his mind. “I'll try not to forget.”

“What are you muttering to yourself, Dude?”

Adrien jumped nearly a feet in the air, catching his phone at the last minute before it made a tragic collision against the ground. “Nino! Huh, I, sorry, I was just looking at the latest post on Alya's blog.”

“Mhmm, yeah, the pen test?” Nino crossed his arms behind his neck, all too relaxed for the fright he had given his best friend. “What do you think? I mean, I was convinced he was just goofing around, doing the whole 'Liar, Liar' routine.”

“The what?”

“This pen is green? No?” A familiar look of compassionate teasing filtered in Nino's gaze. “Oh my poor sheltered bro. I have so much left to teach you.”

“Hey, Nino, Adrien,” Kim called from near the library's doors, “are you too coming to the qualifiers or not?”

“Hell yeah, dude! Keep two seats warm for us. We're coming!”

Adrien took one look at the projector and the console laying in front of two mattresses, and most of his classmates either excitedly waiting for something to begin, or psyching themselves up.

It clicked. “The qualifiers! I forgot that was today!”

Nino patted his back, smiling slyly. “No time to practice, huh? Tough luck. I suppose I will have to take your seat in the tournament alongside Max then.”

“Please,” Adrien drawled, “I will crush Max. I've had the game for months now.”

As his words sank in, his best friend paused and glanced back to him wildly. “It came out two weeks ago!”

Adrien had the gall to look smug. “Ah, the joys of being filthy rich.”

Nino shot him a rare look of jealousy and disgust which, if it hadn't been for the hints of a smirk underneath, would have made Adrien regret his words. As it was, he merely squirmed a bit.

“Dude, I'm coming over your place to play Alpha Strikers tomorrow night.”

He didn't bother denying that he also had that as of yet unreleased game.

“Deal.” Adrien smirked, bemused by the 'threat'.

“Shouldn't you practice _Ultimate Mecha Strike III_ instead?” Alya's voice asked them, and he flinched a bit.

“Oh, I don't need practice.”

Nino punched him on the shoulder.

\--

In the end, he had secured, through great pains and a little bit of blood, his place as one of the top two competitors, barely beating Max and taking the crown of the King of Games. As such, Adrien allowed himself a rare feeling of smug superiority. Had he been a cat, he might have purred. It felt so awesome!

He was just about wondering if it would be inappropriate to sing “It is good to be the king”, that he noticed a new challenger approaching. And all thoughts of triumphant singing left his mind as he subtly walked up to Nino and whispered “Marinette plays _Ultimate Mecha Strike III_?”

Nino helpfully shrugged.

Adrien walked a bit closer to the screen, standing right besides a very enthusiastic Kim. But what startled him was when his classmate suddenly turned an uneasy mix of green and blue as he shouted “Come on, Max, you can beat her!”

The words 'Game... START!' appeared on screen, and one robot blitzed towards the other. The move had been fast enough to startled both Max and the audience. Alya's howlering quickly overshadowed Kim's pained call for his dude, his man to get back control of the match. But Adrien could tell, that was not gonna happen.

Holy crap…

She had pulled off a Triple-Death combo on _Max_. Adrien himself could barely pull it off on a normal level computer! The move sealed the match, Marinette's robot performing a victory dance not unlike the one his classmate was doing. No one could, in that moment, find it in themselves to tease her, or be anything but impressed. It had been her decisive victory.

Adrien took a second to remember the details of his match with Max, then winced as he realized that it had been fairly close in the end.

Thus, Marinette would likely kick his ass. Badly.

He felt a small, uncharacteristic bout of bitterness. How come Adrien could never compete with his Princess in anything? Not even in videogames? It stung a bit. Which was probably what Nino had felt just a couple of minutes ago.

And while he was having his pity party lite, Marinette had woodenly made her way up to him. And said nothing, smiling a bit vacantly, very, very obviously uneasy around him.

“Well then,” the principal said, clapping them on the back, “I believe we have found our two participants for the inter-school tournament.”

“Yeah, congrats, guys!” Alya cheered.

“Kick their asses!” Kim said.

“With the way Marinette played? Her foot is going to come out of their mouths.”

“Nino, gross!” Alya smacked his shoulder. “...but true.”

“With you two as our champions, our school is going to win for sure!” Mylene cheered them on.

Wait. Waaaaait... That was a good point. They were going to be partners. Him. His Princess. A video game. They would be playing together in the tournament. Yes! Thank goodness Nino had reminded him of the qualifiers!

Someone coughed. Adrien then abruptly realized that everyone in the library was looking at them, expecting some words to be exchanged, and Marinette.exe had apparently crashed.

It was up to him then.

“So... my place or yours?”

Oh God.

Silence drilled into his ears as various pairs of eyes widened, first amongst them Marinette's.

He discreetly pinched himself. _Ouch._ Yep, not a dream. He had just said that to a classmate whom he might or not be crushing on very hard. In front of the entire class. Under the suddenly suspicious gaze of their principal. This could not be happening right now. He pleaded with his eyes for Nino to be the ultimate bro and murder him on the spot.

Unfortunately for Adrien, Nino was a freaking traitor that was currently wheezing against a bookshelves and wiping out tears of laughter!

“I meant, to practice! Yeah.” And he could kiss his guardian angel for this being the actual truth. “Because we're going to be partners,” -- which they already were, in much more skin-tight clothing as well... why did he think of that _now_? -- “A-a-a-and partners have to practice together.”

“Could it be...?” he heard Alya mutter to herself. “Oh my God, he's...”

_Red alert! The she-demon reporter has sniffed blood!_

He laughed very unconvincingly, knowing that more than a few classmates were looking at him as if they were seeing him for the first time. “You know... for the tournament... Yeah...” He cleared his throat, channeled a bit of Paon in his voice. “Because you're a lot better than me at video games. I need your guidance.”

While he wasn't looking, too busy digging himself deeper with vigorous efforts, someone had replaced Marinette with a very life-like statue of her. Or maybe she was paralysed by second-hand embarrassment. Either way, she was so still Adrien's blush receded in favour of a concerned frown. “Marinette?” he asked softly.

“AH!” she shrieked, jolting him and their immediate surroundings out of their daze. “Sorry! I... I mean, yeah, sure, my place, it's a date.”

Adrien promptly blushed up to the root of his perfect golden locks.

_It was just a slip of the tongue._ _That is all. She meant nothing by it. I started it anyway._

“Practice!” she shouted in panic, “A _practice_ date. For the tournament. Which was a great idea by the way! I... I'll... s-s-s-see you later, Adrien!”

“Huh, Marinette?” he called out as she made mechanical strides toward the exit. “When?!”

Marinette faceplanted into a bookshelf. A muffled 'after class today' could be heard from where she held her hands against her mouth. His protective instincts had not even had time to flare that Alya was helping her best friend up and outside of the line of fire.

In contrast, Nino had passed out for lack of air.

Adrien left him there. The double traitor.

\--

Convincing Nathalie of the advantages of letting him participate in a video game competition had been... interesting, to say the least. He was getting a knack for pointing out truths that would be helpful to his cause without explaining that _he_ personally just wanted to go have fun with his classmates.

Then again, Nathalie had _almost_ smiled as she had raised her left eyebrow in an otherwise perfectly sceptical manner. Almost. Because the day Nathalie openly smiled in any way that was not required by her contract, Adrien would finally understand that Juuno had been playing a long con and he was actually the Kwami of Lies.

Thus, he had chosen not to question his good fortune and simply let the gorilla drive him to Marinette's home. Which was a bakery.

A familiar looking bakery.

The Dupain-Cheng Bakery.

Marinette _Dupain-Cheng_.

How had he managed to overlook that?

For a few instants, Adrien remained frozen in sight of the sign over the door, his mind flashing back to his very first excursion as a budding superhero. And the moment of humiliation, the _begging_ for some miracle to help him go back home without being grounded for life.

Though, to be fair, at the time, he might as well have already been, confined as he was to their house except for modelling jobs...

But somehow, thank to one person's kindness, he had been able to return undetected. It might even have given him a fair chance to attend public school. Heaven knows his father would have never let him go to public school if he had been caught sneaking out the day before.

He might not have met Nino, Marinette, Nath, Alya, everyone.

And the thought was a jolt of electricity running down his arms, and he almost _rushed_ to get inside the bakery, wondering, thinking, why he hadn't come sooner, why he hadn't insisted...!

And the chimes of bell hit him as did the smell of fresh pastries and bread. Hard. There was a woman of Asian origins working the cash register. She looked like Marinette. And suddenly, Adrien felt weak in the knees. Nope. He could not do this.

But his legs moved forward, and the woman noticed him approaching, plastering on an amiable smile. “Welcome to the Dupain-Cheng Bakery. May I help you?” She sounded so calm and nice and...

_Is this how Marinette is going to sound like when she's older?_

“I. Huh. I'm not here for... ” Heat spread across his face, down his neck. What was he even saying?! She was going to think he was window shopping, or worse, that he was snobbing her products! “I mean, I'm here for Marinette!”

Marinette's mother perked up, and there was new light in her eyes, as if she suddenly made a connection between his words and his face. Her demeanour changed subtly, a bit more playful, more fond.

“And what do you want with my daughter, young man?”

“I'm her partner,” he blurted out.

...Today was _not_ his day. At all.

The slight vibration from inside his jacket seemed to be Juuno, stifling his snickering. Which, okay, he had to admit was fair. But that did not prevent Adrien's hand from squeezing the spot on his jacket, because he used to be able to _lie_ his way out of these situations!

Mrs. Cheng needed only raise a questioning eyebrow at him, and Adrien was ready to sing like a canary about _everything_.

“A tournament! I mean, my name is Adrien Agreste and we're partners in the upcoming Mecha Strike tournament! We, well, we are playing on the same team, and we need to practice, a lot.”

He could have kissed Juuno when Mrs. Cheng giggled behind her hand. “I see. Adrien, is it? Marinette mentioned you.” And by the twinkle in the woman's eyes, it must have been quite the mention.

He couldn't keep the hope out of his voice. “D-did she?”

“Oh yes, she did,” she said mischievously, opening an inviting arm. “Come with me, we'll tell her you're here.”

Just as he made to follow however, another person entered the room, and Adrien's heart suddenly sank, approximately down to the sole of his shoes.

Mr. Dupain.

The burly man came in the room, wearing a ridiculously small apron for his frame, two bright pink cooking gloves on his hands and a baking tray full of _delicious-looking_ caramel-coated cream puffs. Just looking at them made Adrien fatter by two pounds.

“Tom,” said Mrs. Cheng, “This is Adrien, Marinette's friend. He's here for the gaming tournament.”

Mr. Dupain's gaze lingered on Adrien, and surely, _surely_ he could recognize the young model from that night. He had to. There was such weight to his gaze that Adrien had to dip into Paon's strength to keep himself from running.

“Ah,” Mr. Dupain drawled, “a fan of video games, aren't you? Then again, who isn't at your age? Do you know that I'm the one that taught Marinette every trick she knows?”

Adrien's mind flashed back to the combos she pulled on Max.

“Even the Triple-Death combo?”

Mr. Dupain leaned in, stage-whispered “Especially the Triple-Death combo.”

“Which,” Mrs. Cheng's voice cut in, “she learned by performing them on you.”

And Adrien could barely believe his eyes when the man as tall and wide as his personal bodyguard pouted. “Honey. Why must you always point this out? I'm an excellent Ultimate Mecha Strike III player.”

“I cannot let you become the cool parent in our guest's eyes. That honour is mine, Sweetie.”

Adrien snorted.

Eyes turned to him.

He blushed. “Ah, hmm, sorry?” He fidgeted with the ems of his jacket. “Marinette, please?”

The baker couple exchanged a knowing glance.

“Marinette!” Mr. Dupain bellowed. “Adrien is here!”

And his Princess came in barrelling at breakneck speed, almost exactly like she did whenever she was entering a class seconds before the bell. And just like then, Marinette stopped right in the doorframe, lacking in natural grace, if not for the slight flush that gave her face an alluring effect make-up artists dreamed about.

“A-A-Adrien! You... huh, you're a bit early?”

“Oh.” He blinked, blushed. “Too early?”

“What?” Marinette sounded somehow surprised. “No.” She waved it off with a smile she must have thought was confident. “Nooooo, there's no problem at all. Just... give me a second, okay?”

And she _bolted_ up the stairs, muttering something under her breath before slamming the trapdoor shut. The very next moment, he heard footsteps and stomps coming from her room, and it was a bit of a challenge to keep smiling politely in front of her parents.

Who seemed slightly embarrassed by proxy. Or maybe they were amused.

Marinette's mother rolled her eyes, smile still in place, whilst her father facepalmed.

“Well, Adrien, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

\--

… Those croissants had looked seriously delicious.

They were probably full of butter, moist and tender, their crispy exterior falling apart with a touch.

It was so very much against his diet, and he became suddenly aware of sitting above a forbidden garden of delights. Why, oh why, had he agreed to practice his video game skills on top of a bakery? He was a model, on a diet, that forbid him from eating the actually tasty things in life! For freak's sake, he probably didn't even know half the pastries produced downstairs, but they all smelled positively divine.

... The next time Marinette's parents opened the trapdoor, he would speak up first.

His smile to her was slightly pained as they unpaused the match. Unsurprisingly, the battle ended a minute later, with his character's health completely depleted, and Marinette's still slightly over half of of the bar.

“At this point, it's not even funny,” he mumbled. “How do you even do that?”

Her apologetic smile was ruined by the smug confidence oozing through every pore of her skin. At the very least, her tone was suitably friendly and teasing-free when she patted his shoulder. “I've had a lot of practice. Plus, I've been playing this series since I was seven. My dad introduced me to it.”

“Bet he's regretting that now, huh?” Adrien smirked. “Triple-Death combos, Shoriyukong, Miraculous Uppercuts? The poor man...”

Marinette chuckled. “Well, if there is one thing my dad is good at, it's being a graceful loser. And winner.”

Adrien suddenly felt daring. “And did you inherit that?” _Princess_ lingered on the tip of his tongue.

“Of course,” she said haughtily. “And, to prove it... Here, it's my good luck charm. I've had it for years. Maybe it'll help you during the tournament.”

Carefully, she undid the laces on a string bracelet around her wrist, and the teasing mood faded. Adrien's heart caught up in his throat as his partner casually reached for his wrist and tied to it a charm she had apparently held onto for _years_.

“Marinette...” he said in a breathless whisper. Affection was rushing through his veins, the secret between them growing so heavy. “You shouldn't.”

_I'm Paon. It's me! Look at me. Please. Look at me, look in my eyes, I'm right next to you, and I'm feeling like I'm choking because you can’t_ see _me._

He could tell her.

_She doesn't want you to know. She doesn’t want to know._

But he did know. And that knowledge threatened to tear him in half. Why, oh why, had his Princess asked him to lie to her?

“I want to,” she said, her cheeks taking on a rosy colour. “We have to win the tournament, don't we? I can do without.”

“...Okay.” Because what could he say to that. What was there to say?

For the next few minutes, they played in relative silence, Adrien trying to get back in the game, but feeling the weight of her bracelet digging into his wrist. Coming here… coming to talk to Marinette without the masks… maybe it had been a bad idea.

The TV screen displayed bright red letters that compounded Adrien’s new loss. This time however, Marinette refrained from any display of gloating. Rather, she looked at him with worry.

“Adrien, what’s wrong?”

“I was thinking.”

“...About?”

“Ladybug, Paon Bleu, Chat Noir.”

It was hard to miss her flinch. “Why all of a sudden?”

He only needed to eye Marinette's choice of battle bot, whose armour was red with black polka dots.

“Point. So, what about them?”

Breathe in. Out. “Do you think they know each other's identity?”

Silence. The robots frozen, Marinette's with both arms in a celebratory pose. Marinette's knuckles, white against the controller’s handles.

The tone was falsely neutral. “Why do you ask?”

Adrien scratched his cheek, unable to quite meet her gaze with his own. “Well, Paon Bleu can know anything, right? So, he must obviously know who his teammates are even if they don't. It'd be easy for him to tell.”

“I don't believe that.” And those words were spoken with such an intensity that Adrien's spine tingled. “If they chose to hide their identities, then Paon Bleu wouldn't try to find out. He's too honest to do that behind their backs.”

His tongue stuck to his palate. His heart had skipped a beat. He knew, he already knew, but the _faith_ she put in him...

“That... that's all assuming they don't already know, of course,” Marinette added quickly, a faint blush on her cheeks. She pushed a few buttons on her controller and music blared to life from the TV.

Adrien racked his brain for the arguments on the Ladyblog. “They do always leave in separate directions in the end.”

“And who knows if they are immune to Hawk Moth's akumas. It could be safer to remain ignorant, so that if one of them gets akumatized, the other two will still be safe, at least.”

Adrien's heartbeat accelerated, and he found it hard to keep his gaze focused on the TV screen. Unable to help himself, he snuck in glances at his Princess every so often, which did not help his victory ratio in the slightest. Fortunately, he had stopped caring entirely. Something in Marinette's voice had felt like a promise. Like a vow to Paon, that the masks would fall one day.

_So, when Hawk Moth is defeated, huh?_

A polite knock on the trapdoor make them both turn, and he could see Marinette's mouth open with a chastising reproach ready to throw at her parents.

“Marinette, can we take a break please?” he asked, bashful, pointing subtly to the screen. “I don't think I'm improving much. This was my seventh crushing defeat in a row.”

“You haven't lost yet,” Marinette pointed out.

Adrien stared.

Marinette relented, grinning. “Yet.”

As it turned out, the Dupain-Cheng's latest attempt at hospitality was a whole _quiche._ Adrien heard his carefully balanced regime moaned in agony, and barely resisted the urge to kiss both bakers.

\--

Adrien placed the last dish back in the drawer Sabine Cheng indicated, hanging the dish cloth on the oven's handle. Despite her and her husband's repeated protests, he had insisted, which only seemed to endear him to the couple. Not his intended goal, but he could not help but feel lighthearted at the thought.

Mr. Dupain had then jokingly declared that Marinette should invite him over more often. Such a polite young man, it was hard to resist not feeding him. Which was a threat to his regime that Nathalie would surely advise against.

Marinette had groaned, embarrassed. Mrs. Cheng had chuckled along, reiterating that her husband's offer was genuine, and that Marinette should be ashamed of herself for not presenting him to them sooner. The secondhand embarrassment was reaching critical mass, and though amused, Adrien feared his Princess would never let him come again lest she spontaneously combusted.

His nerves were a bit frazzled, admittedly. He had spent most of the afternoon waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And there it was. Coming straight for him at a thousand miles per hour.

“Adrien, do you mind coming to give me a hand for a few minutes here?” called the exceedingly muscled man from his spot in the kitchen. “The next batch is going to need a little extra care and my wife has to take care of the customers at the front.”

Adrien nodded, saying a quick 'of course!' while trying to keep his heart from exploding out of sheer nerves. Had his sight truly needed to show him that this was a blatant lie? He could have done without knowing that his crush's father wanted an excuse to talk to him alone.

As if he needed the stress.

Mr. Dupain, despite his intimidating stature, was patiently waiting by the oven, his gaze flicking from the timer to Adrien.

“Two minutes. First of all, Adrien, I must apologize for my clever ruse.” Marinette's father rubbed the back of his neck in a gesture that he saw in her near every day around him. But his posture suddenly straightened, and his moustache quirked upward. “This is all so we could talk without causing Marinette to spontaneously combust into flames in sheer embarrassment.”

The man clearly knew his daughter. “A noble and perfectly understandable goal,” he said with the utmost serious, trying not to blush. “I would rather my classmate not die from innate immolation.”

“Nice alliteration, son. Now then, as her father, I feel morally and culturally obligated to ask you this question: are you dating my daughter?”

As it turned out, being asked point blank made his face so hot that Adrien thought he was the one that had unexpectedly caught on fire. “I promise I'm not!”

“But you would like to,” Tom Dupain said, his astute gaze so clearly seeing through Adrien's feeble protests.

“More than anything else...” And that was a truth that so naturally came to him... Adrien let his gaze linger wistfully to the door of the kitchen, as if he could see through it, as if it would allow him a glimpse of his Princess in her natural element: giving sweet, sweet hope to Paris. If she could turn those smiles to him...

Soft chuckles cut through his reverie. Blinking, Adrien turned to Mr. Dupain, only to realize that the baker had pulled the tray of cookies out of the oven, and was currently eyeing him in a knowing way that made him slightly uncomfortable. It was like the man had access to something about the situation that Adrien hadn't.

For a second, it was very tempting to try and force the Truth to come out of his mouth.

“You... you know... I'm not sure if you remember, but...” Adrien's breath hitched as he rubbed his left arm. “This is not my first time in the bakery.”

“Don't worry, son,” the burly man said with a gentle pat in Adrien's back. “I wouldn't bring up our last meeting in front of Marinette. Not without a good reason. I can understand why you would rather not have your friends know what you showed up like.”

It felt like chains falling off his body. “I was guilty about it for weeks. I was so worried that I had dragged that awful smell with me... I kept trying to work up the nerves to apologize, but there never was free-time in my schedule, and requesting it would have required me to explain _why_ I absolutely had to come to a bakery when I'm on a diet.”

“I imagine you want to keep it quiet that you were out that night?”

Indeed. Besides being murdered by his father, there might be the real consequence of someone understanding that Paon's story coincided superbly well with the date Mr. Dupain had seen him. Maybe Marinette would put it together that her partner who had fallen into a dumpster and the guy who had shown up in their bakery smelling like garbage that same evening were one and the same.

She would know. It wouldn't really be his fault if she ended up piecing it together.

It had never been harder to grit through his teeth a simple “Please.”

“Your secret is safe with me, Adrien. My daughter's image of you will not be broken by my hands. She will continue to fantasize about your perfection.”

He seriously doubted such a thing. If Ladybug reacted to Paon with annoyed fondness, there was no way Marinette could appreciate the reserved behaviour of Adrien Agreste.

“Oh, I, huh, yeah, about that!” Adrien fumbled as he retrieved his wallet from his pocket. “I got my cards with my this time. I can finally pay you back. W-with interest! I'm so sorry it took so long…”

“Put that away, son. You don't need to pay it back.”

“But I took your product!”

“I gave it to you,” Mr. Dupain replied calmly, his lips quirking upward. “You don't make your friends pay for gifts, do you?”

“No, but…” It didn't feel right. Mr. Dupain had had no obligations to help him. He certainly hadn't given sign that he had recognized the famous supermodel underneath the blushing, stinking adolescent. “It's not just the money. If someone had caught wind of this, I would have... Father would have...”

Large hands fell on his shoulders. One thumb lifting his chin, Adrien's gaze meeting the Mr. Dupain's. And there was a careful consideration in his voice, something gentle, concerned, and that made his words all the more striking.

“There's no price tag on kindness, Adrien.”

Ice crawled up the inside of his stomach.

Father's words had been quite different.

“ _Nothing is done without an ulterior motive, Adrien. Always remember to look under their false smiles and their false promises.”_

They made sense. Still did. As much as it had pained Adrien to admit it at times, some socialites really did smile at him while laughing behind his back. And those were the tame ones that didn't mentally count the years until he was of marriageable age or wanted him as a step in the door toward Gabriel Agreste. It was telling when Chloé's blunt affections were _refreshing_ in comparison.

But here… in this small bakery, surrounded by the buzz of customers in the front and the smell of cinnamon and flour? Looking back to this kind giant of a man and his equally kind wife? He remembered the light in their eyes when they spotted Marinette. He remembered her reply when Sabine Cheng wished them a pleasant afternoon.

“ _Love you, Mom.”_

“ _Love you too, sweetie.”_

_No price tag on kindness, huh?_

“Thank you, Mr. Dupain,” Adrien said, his throat tight and his eyes watery. “Are... are you sure there's nothing I can do to repay you?”

“Well,” started Mr. Dupain with a faint smile, “if you ever do get around to confessing to my daughter, do remember our talk here today.”

\--

“You were in the kitchen with my dad for an awful lot of time.” Marinette noted, her eyebrows furrowed together. Then, she let out a quiet gasp, and red coloured her cheeks. “D-d-did he give you... t-the b-boy...boyfriend talk?”

Adrien blushed beet red up to the root of his hair. He must have imagined the note of hope he heard in her voice.

“Oh my gosh, he did, didn't he? Did he threaten you like in a bad sit-com? Adrien, I am _so_ sorry! My parents are always nosy like that.”

Yeah. Definitely. She looked way too embarrassed and sorry at the idea that he could be her boyfriend. Damn it.

That was awfully cute though.

Double damn it!

“No, no, Marinette, don't worry. He asked me to help with putting the trays in the oven and roll some of the dough.”

Adrien hid a wince. That had been very much pushing his limit. He'd trip on his tongue on the most minute detail, but he really didn't want to reveal that he had already met her father whilst fresh out of a dumpster. He was certain his Princess remembered that story. She had laughed hard enough.

Her mirth had been undignified, full bellied laughter, holding her sides, but it had made her more human, more stunning, and a poor peacock knew when he was trapped.

“Is that really _all_ he asked?” Her mouth twisted on one corner, like she doubted the veracity of that statement. As if her parents would ever take the occasion not to bother a boy coming to visit her. Which, technically, was not blatantly false.

“Well, he did mention the dough song. You know, _~ And you soften up the dough... ~_ ”

“No. No, don't sing it. It's going to get stuck in my head for days!” Marinette's hands rose to cover her ears, until the other part of what had been said registered. “Wait, that's it? That's not like him. He does that to every boy that comes home with me. You should have heard him when Kim came around to play. We were _ten_!”

“Must have been cute,” he teased.

Marinette blushed to the root of her hair. Immediately, frantic, unintelligible explanations flowed from her mouth while she gestured so hard she bumped into a display of cookies. Half of which were sent flying straight at his face.

Honestly, it was like one of his dreams when his diet felt particularly cruel. Except, this time, the chocolate and the crumbs of cookies were real, very real, and very tempting. If he were a lesser guy, the sight of so many cookies wasted might have made him cry a little.

“Ah, sorry!” shouted Marinette as she dusted off his clothes of the stray crumbs.

“I don't mind.” He shrugged, crouching to pick up the fallen cookies. “I'm more worried about your parents though.”

“Oh, no, huh, they're... used to it...” Crouched as well, she put on a smile covered in blue wisps of light. It couldn't have been more fake if she had tried. And so was the little laugh she let out. “I'm such a klutz sometimes.”

And Adrien heard the words, heard the self-deprecation and thought of his Princess endlessly rising to the challenge, saying 'Lucky Charm' and taking control of the flow of battle with but her wits and a trinket.

He smirked, as if bemused. “You don't _really_ think no one makes a mistake on the runway, do you?”

Her hands clenched into fists so hard they crushed the cookies she was holding. Realization was written all over her face. Of course it would be – Adrien smiled –, Ladybug was the cleverest girl he had ever met.

“Father swore me to secrecy, but...” He theatrically looked left and right before leaning to whisper in her ears. “I once tripped on the model's dress in front of me and fell down the runway onto a bunch of chairs.”

The smallest, faintest giggle rang to his ears, just before Marinette slammed her hands so hard against her mouth Adrien feared she might have knocked out a tooth. Electrified, his Princess stood up straighter than steel, clearly trying and failing to not imagine Adrien comically falling off the catwalk. “No...” she said, without conviction.

Adrien smiled back. “It was a practice run, but, boy, was Father mad that time. Made me take a bunch of classes on balance and posture and all that fun hip wiggle strut.”

And for good measure, he bumped into her hip first.

She squawked like a dying whale getting caught on a rollercoaster, and Adrien feared he had hurt her somehow. How could Ladybug produce such an un-Ladybug noise? He really didn't get it.

But then she giggled, a little, uncontrolled noise, and hit him back with one bump of her killer hips!

“My, Miss Dupain-Cheng, are you perchance a model?” he said in a snooty imitation of his father's voice.

The roll of her eyes then was all Ladybug. “Yeah, right.”

“You'd be pretty enough.”

Time came to a stand still as he realized he had **said it out loud.** Slowly, his eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat, his ears hearing nothing more than the dull thrums of his own heartbeat. And Marinette, Marinette staring, Marinette flinching, her jaw hanging as the words sank in. Looking like she couldn't believe what she had heard.

_Peacocks live by the Truth. Say it!_

Swallowing. Trying to forget his too dry mouth and lips, leaning ever so slightly toward his Princess, he paused. Only three words. Only the three scariest words in the history of the words, but once they were said, he could only be freed. He would be staring at the remains of shattered shackles. No matter the answer, no matter what would come, he would be freed. He only had to say it.

And suddenly, in his ears, the ringing was replaced by screams being cut short.

“Wait, what was that?”

\--

“Where's my seat?” he asked with a sinking feeling.

The ladybug robot marched on toward the Gamer's killer machine, unflinching, each step as awesome and intimidating as a titan's. And he, poor little Paon, could only watch as the robot sprinted away from him.

“What? No, you guys can't be piloting a giant robot without me! Come on, Princess, Chat! I wanna play with the robot too! Don't leave me behind!”

They could and did.

Being Paon Bleu was despair.

\--

Well, it wasn't all despair. He had had a good time practicing with his Marinette, so there was always that. And, though he had been looking forward to it...

When he arrived at the stadium, almost late due to another photoshoot that went on forever, Marinette was there, waiting for him, and the last words he told her as Adrien flashed back to the front of his mind. _You'd be pretty enough_.

And by the Truth, she was. And he could only kick himself that the first time he admitted his attraction to her, it had come in a joking context. She never took it _too_ seriously when it was Paon giving out grandiose speeches and declaring his flame for her throughout Paris. Was Marinette the same? Or would her timidity around him stop her from dismissing the words outright?

“Hi Marinette, I...” And the words became a jumbled mess in his mouth before they were even spoken. “I, huh, y'know...”

His face turned a bright shade a red whilst Marinette tried not to die of embarrassment. Wow, he was the worst partner ever, getting his teammate and supreme leader to hear such babbling minutes before a team event! She was going to forfeit for certain!

But then she saw Max coming over, slowly, unhappy but steady. And he saw the flip switch in her eyes. No longer Marinette, but Ladybug in front of a former akumatized victim, and all of her was attentive and compassionate.

Without realizing it, Adrien's focus brought the Paon's sight at the edge of his eyes. His Ladybug wouldn't be alone to reassure their classmate.

“Marinette,” Max started, “I... I wanted to apologize for my behaviour. The other day, I was akumatized because I felt angry and jealous of you. I thought that just because I had trained hard, I should have been part of the team when you were clearly the stronger player.”

“Max, you're not responsible for--”

“I know. Hawk Moth's powers clearly include a variant of mind control that leaves anyone that touches his butterflies powerless to contradict him. But I gave him the opportunity. I shouldn't felt this way in the first place.”

“Don't say that,” Adrien jumped in. “Max, never think that your feelings are invalid. That's not how it works. Marinette knows that no matter what you felt, you wouldn't have done anything like what happened with Hawk Moth. That's what matters. The rest is _all_ on Hawk Moth's head, and one day he'll pay for doing this to you and so many others!”

Both his classmates blinked at his sudden surge of energy. Then, a soft smile tugged at Marinette's lips. “He's right, you know?” For a moment, her gaze flicked to the benches just a few meters away. “I was a bit selfish too. I wanted to show off on the day of the tryouts. I didn't stop to consider what it felt like to you.”

“You're the better player, Marinette!” Max raised his hands in protest, though a part of him sounded pained.

She must have known. Must have seen. For she presented the controller to him with a half-smile. “Maybe. But the tournament was more important to you. Take my spot.”

_Hey, if we're playing honour bound here..._ “Actually, Marinette, I'm the one that is giving up my spot in the tournament.”

Marinette whirled around, her eyes wide, equal shock on both her and Max's faces.

He smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. “You're clearly the superior gamer, whereas I only just barely managed to beat Max. Our school's chances of winning go up by forty percent if it's you that stays on the team,” he said with a wink.

Their classmate looked at the offered controller with tears pearling in the corner of his eyes, choked up. “A-actually, it would be forty four percent,” he said, readjusting his glasses on his nose.

“You heard the man, Marinette!” He pushed her forward, grinning. “Now, you two go and make our school proud!”

\--

Being in Chloé Bourgeois' general vicinity was despair.

For starters, she was getting a bit clingier these days. Though she toned down the pitbull act around him, Adrien had nonetheless caught sight of a few classmates hesitate before moving past him when they saw Chloé. Amongst them was Marinette, sometimes looking at him with more curiosity than bashfulness. In the week since the gaming tournament, between Chloé and his frankly insane schedule, he had yet to find a good occasion to talk to her. His resolve was weakening every day that flew by, more doubts whispered back in his ears and not even Juuno's encouragements could quite convince him. And yet, nothing quite compared to what he felt today.

Having to listen to Chloé convince Uncle André – as he insisted on being called – to order for Marinette's arrest was **_fury_ **.

No one had stolen her bracelet, though Nathanaël looked particularly pale once he looked into his backpack. Adrien had to bite his lips to the blood just to stop himself from shouting that they were _all_ telling the truth. Except, appropriately, Chloé, who was raving and making a nuisance of herself. Yes, she was missing a valuable bracelet, but that was not a reason to indulge her grudge against Marinette.

Pointing this out had been pointless. He was just _too kind_ in her eyes for anything but agreement to be taken into account.

Then, Officer Roger Raincomprix was fired, in front of their entire class, for refusing to take a teenage girl into custody on the word of the mayor's daughter. Adrien began a mental countdown in his head from the moment Sabrina's father left the room.

_Sabrina…_ Adrien thought with a sudden wince.

The poor girl looked into empty air, her jaw hanging low, her eyes slightly wider than usual. As if she couldn't believe what had just happened. Her best friend had gotten her father fired. Over a bracelet and a grudge. Perhaps it wasn't fair to blame Chloé entirely for her father's reaction, but she merely huffed and whined some more about the damned trinket.

The girl she claimed was her best friend looked on the verge of breaking down in tears, and she couldn't even be bothered to notice.

The words flared at the front of his mind, harsh, burning. _Chloé doesn't share._

But he did. Paon Bleu shared himself with the whole of Paris, one word at a time. And Adrien stood up quickly and sneaked around the crowd to find Sabrina as she tried to disappear into the wall.

Her shoulders were shaking. So, he placed his right hand on her shoulder, friendlier than he had been with Chloé herself in years, and spoke softly, “Hey, things will go back to normal soon.”

“Y-yeah…” she said, pulling away, “I'm sure Chloé will ask her dad to take him back once she gets her bracelet back.”

Like this was just an inconvenience. Merely a temper tantrum. Something that came and went with the rhythm of the waves. The same old dance. Not Sabrina's home life risking to become that much harder.

Adrien forced himself to smile. “If she doesn't, I'll remind her. I swear, Sabrina, things will be alright.”

“… Thank you.”

\--

On one hand, Paon Bleu thought Rogercop was more or less justified. 'Uncle' André really deserved the reminder not to abuse his position. On the other…

The entire police corps of Paris had turned on their team of superheroes because an akuma had gotten the mayor to renounce his position under duress. Surely, that must have sounded stupid to everyone else, right? Right? Apparently not.

Paon Bleu graciously agreed to be the distraction. By which he meant that he was going to take on every police officer thrown at him with unprecedented grace and fabulousness.

And if that meant he could take a vindictive, petty, _childish – “_ Adrien, you are overly emotional. It is unbecoming of my son. _” –_ pleasure out of proving that yes, he could fight very well without a weapon or a spell, then… wasn't that just the thing?

“Come on, guys!” he taunted as he vaulted over a trio of panicked looking policemen. “Can't you at least try to make me sweat?”

He still probably shouldn't have gloated over the many, many groaning policemen and women. He actually could recognize some of them from previous rescue.

Oops.

\--

Fun fact: Ladybug, despite being half-Chinese, did not speak Mandarin.

Another fun fact: Adrien very much did speak it and had to refrain from (somehow) kissing Alya when she called him. A chance to spend an afternoon with an internationally renowned chef and his Princess? Yes, please!

Not even the wink and the smug smirk combined had been enough to hesitate. He would spend all his time with Marinette!

\--

Unless an akuma attacked. That was a possibility too.

Damn it...

On the other hand, he was completely convinced that Marinette had found out he was Paon Bleu after her uncle had been akumatized. The both of them had appeared inside a sealed building! When the two of them had been amongst the few teenagers in the whole hotel!

Chat Noir had bypassed the whole trial by combat, one level at a time, by not being part of the cooking competition. He had actually just jumped in to save Chloé – Adrien's… 'friend' being her usual self about a non-Ladybug rescue – and distracted Kung Food for a good while. That should have really brought things into perspective.

Yet when Adrien met her again for the competition's reprise, she hadn't acted any differently. Just the usual hesitations, blushing, and lack of eye contact. Damn it, he thought they had made some progress the last time! Then again... _Not until Hawk Moth..._

\--

“Now, look at your camera as if you are in love, Adrien.”

He seriously doubted that the photographer had meant for him to look tortured and desperate, but that was what it suddenly felt like.

“Adrien, honey, I said 'in love'. Though…” the red-haired woman held her fingers as if to frame his forlorn look. “Wait, no, this is good. Not sunny, but you look _deep._ Your fans will eat it up.”

Oh, wow. Wasn't often that he was given explicit permission to daydream. Well, good, he was going to use it. There had been more akumas lately, and he never had time alone with Ladybug. Not enough to speak, truly.

Could it be that Ladybug knew and refused to say it? She had been the one to insist on keeping their identities secret from each other. Perhaps she had found out but merely kept the status quo out of the belief that they needed the distance. It was maddening. But if his Princess wanted to keep her privacy, then he could not deny it to her. No matter how much he wanted to take her hand at school and drag her into an empty closet, and say “I'm Paon, Ladybug.” And then maybe make out a bit.

The cameras' clicking stopped.

“Good, that's enough 'slightly tortured inside'. Now, Adrien, try to imagine she is in front of you, doing something you love.”

Easy enough. For example, that assistant in the back that was running around with bottles of water and a clipboard. She would suddenly burst into oozing purple darkness and become the Water Bearer! MWAHAHAHA! She'd probably look like something out of a zodiac sign horoscope. Maybe a mermaid carrying a jug of water.

And then, Ladybug would swoop in, regal as a queen, and he would follow as her loyal knight. She would do something incredibly _clever_ with her Lucky Charm, something that would make him stare in awe. And she would say 'pound it'.

“Perfect,” the photographer said. “That's a smile to make someone fall in love with you, Adrien.”

Oh, he wished. If all it took was a smile...

Sometimes, he wondered what would have happened if he had been Chat Noir instead. If he hadn't implicitly been her subordinate, but her equal. Could he have pushed for this openness? Maybe he would have convinced her.

Maybe he would have already confessed, confident in the knowledge that Ladybug and Chat Noir were meant to be. Wait... Would he even know her secret identity? The glamour piercing was exclusive to Paon Bleu. Nathanaël hadn't been able to tell who he was, less so Marinette!

“Adrien,” chastised the voice of the photographer, “you're moving into surprise now. That's never good for a model. Try a bit more... melancholic.”

Right. He was still at a photoshoot. “Sorry. My bad. My thoughts got away from me there. I'm just--” And the words suddenly wouldn't come anymore.

Adrien folded on himself as white-hot lead speared into his chest. For a few terrifying second, his sight was nothing but pure white light. People were rushing at his side, screams for a doctor already.

Through the haze of pain, Adrien only felt the hands running across his body, and urgency. Tears in his eyes, he muttered a shaking 'go!' before falling to his knees.

Juuno rushed to hide his miraculous away inside his backpack. No one but the kwami knew the reason it had turned an angry shade of red.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He... he wanted to start yelling too. It was there, on the tip of his tongue. He could try cutting her, deep, deeper than anyone else had tried before, he would wager. Maybe she'd learn.

There wasn't a beeping sound. Somehow, the absence of beeping annoyed him more than the rest. In the back of his mind, he knew the dislike to be childish, but he could not help the vague disappointment he felt at the lack of a heart monitor beeping in his hospital room. Shouldn't there be one?

A little white lie perpetrated by his love of televised dramas. No, he could not fall asleep under the rhythmic, systematic beeping of his own heartbeat. Just the shuffling of nurses walking down the hallways pushing trollies or patients in wheelchairs.

From times to times, one of them would pop her head in and ask him how he felt, if there were any changes. They always tended to have a blue around them when they asked. Some of them seemed very close to rolling their eyes as they did. On one hand, Adrien could understand. His condition appeared to be simple enough on the surface. Just a second degree burn on his chest. Defined enough to have been obviously caused by a searing hot object, like a brooch in the shape of a peacock tail. The doctors themselves had been at a loss on what Nathalie wanted them to do besides the usual burn treatment.

However, because every single witness had corroborated the story that nothing even remotely hot had touched Adrien's skin, they had decided to put him under observation. Very skeptically. But they had when confronted by Nathalie's cold death glare.

And now, the occasional clicking sound came from her tablet as she waited by his bedside.

“Adrien, do you know how you got this?” With her pen, she pointed out to the exposed flesh of his chest. There, his skin had turned an angry red, a few layers of skin peeled off or bubbling.

The burn had been between the first and the second degree. None of the doctors had been able to explain how a teenager could spontaneously by burned this way without contact or heat. Nathalie had had his clothes examined, and, as noted, his shirt hadn't even been hot.

Adrien shook his head.

“Your father will ask.”

If Adrien had had enough energy, he would have paled. Father might ask to look at a picture. Would he make the connection? Would he look at the burn mark on his chest and compare it to the brooch in his safe that was absent? If he had known what it was, then he would have already realized that Paon had been jumping all around town with stolen property. If not, then he might just look and wonder, ask, how Adrien could have possibly known.

“I don't know, Nathalie.” The Truth. He had an idea of what it could be, but it made no sense. “What are the doctors saying?”

“They are as puzzled as me,” she said, and Adrien's ears ticked at that. Something in Nathalie's usually neutral stare seemed different. “This burn mark apparently appeared out of thin air. And you are absolutely sure that you weren't keeping anything that could have burned you in your jacket?”

“My clothes weren't even hot, were they?” he asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible. Like cold sweat wasn't running down his spine at the thought. Juuno must have managed to hide. He must have! “The textile wouldn't have been strong enough to stay unscathed otherwise.”

Her eyes flickered to the bandages hiding the burn mark itself.

“In that case, perhaps it was an akuma attack,” Nathalie pondered, bringing the butt of her pen to her lips, pensive.

Adrien's chest throbbed.

“I... I dunno...” he forced out through the new bout of pain. “Probably. What else could it be?”

If the explanation defied logic, it would have to be magic. And currently, there were only two recorded sources of magic in Paris. Akumas and Miraculous. Nathalie was terribly practical like that.

“What else?” She trailed off, sounding as if she had spent weeks without rest.

Suddenly, Adrien wanted to shrink on himself. How much of that fatigue was spent juggling around his schedule? Playing catch whenever an akuma explosively revealed itself to Paris and Adrien had once more disappeared?

“Well, regardless,” – Adrien had to use every bit of self-control he possessed not to sigh in relief – “at least this allowed us to do an early check up on your health in general.”

 _Always the efficient one,_ Adrien thought with a wry smile. _Betcha that's why Father likes you._

Something that could have been a smile tugged at the corners of her fiery red lips. “Wipe that off your face, Adrien. You don't have the face for 'mischievous little hellion'.” Which was as close to banter Nathalie would ever say with her neutral, even, near robotic voice. “Now, in all seriousness, the doctors noticed something curious.”

Adrien's hands clenched under the sheets. “Oh?”

Nathalie brandished a small stack of papers. “When it came to your weight-to-height ratio, they realized that it was differed slightly from the dieticians' predictions. You apparently used up far more calories than predicted by your scheduled extracurricular.”

His insides had grown cold. Every breath still felt as if torn out of him, his chest stretched by the burn mark. Of course. Of course he would have used up more than he ate. He was performing jumps that would make a grasshopper green with envy. Greener. Greenest. Like a singularity of green.

Point was, superheroing obviously demanded a high calorie diet he wasn't quite receiving. Sure, Juuno provided a lot of strength and energy, but it was still Adrien moving around at the end of the day.

“Well...” he said slowly. “I have been... you know, going out with my friends.”

“Once a week.”

He winced. “Yes. Once a week. And I've been practicing DDR in my room.”

Nathalie remained silent. She needed not words to communicate how unimpressed she was by that lie. She simply stared, and Adrien squirmed, and hummed the opening song of the game, because he actually had played it. Just not as often as he had indirectly pretended.

“You know. The dancing game. With the mat. It's a good way to stretch my legs when I have to stay inside.”

Nathalie's eyes fell back to her tablet, and more clicking sound filled in the air. “Well, if your DDR sessions are so intense that they are affecting your appearance...”

Adrien braced himself. There it was. He'd be told to expect to see the DDR machine go. To be reminded that his body was his temple, that he couldn't just work out outside of what was determined by his army of dietician and physical trainers and various beauty experts. That wasn't how it worked with models, Adrien.

“Then I suppose I could talk to your Father about spacing out your fencing lessons.”

Adrien's jaw fell.

“W-what?”

Nathalie continued as if she hadn't done the equivalent of dancing the boogie in the middle a church's service. “If I recall, your teacher qualified you as 'near professional' level. For appearance's sake, it would be perfectly serviceable. Of course, if your rigorous videogame sessions were to become less regular, we might need to readjust, but for the time being...”

“Why?” he croaked out, pretending he wasn't choking on the gratitude.

“Well, the image your father's company is aiming for is more 'teenage sweetheart'. If you were to gain too many muscles, we would have to move into 'athletic young man', and it is still a bit early.”

Cold. Efficient. Always the same, besides the hints of something deeper in her eyes, in her voice. Efficient, certainly, but not the most efficient either. Not nearly as cold as it could be.

Merely the same feeling of cold one longed for on a hot summer day.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

“It is not set in stone yet,” she reminded him gently. “Your father still has the final word on this.”

This should have sufficed to get him to sober up. It always used to, before he had gotten Juuno. But Father had given him permission to attend public school, to invite friends over (sometimes), to participate in the kind of things normal teenagers did. A little voice in the back of his head wondered, truly wondered, if Father was as strict as he had always pictured.

He was just about to reply when he noticed the almost eerie silence coming from the hallway. The effect was so unnatural that Adrien almost feared an akuma attack.

But the hand that landed on the doorframe was not one of those sickly neon colours. Merely a pale, slightly cream-like skin, attached to an arm hidden by a pure white sleeve. When its owner stepped in, Adrien's head span.

“Father?”

He was here? In person?!

 _He's looking at me..._ the thought felt scandalous. _He's_ actually _looking at me. Directly. Not through a reflection, through a videocall. Me. At me. He's looking straight at me._

Adrien heard himself say, distantly, “Father, you came.”

Hurt flashed behind his father's spectacles. “Did I give the impression I wouldn't? You...” Gabriel Agreste swallowed, as if the words themselves were hard to speak. “You were hospitalized, Adrien. Of course I would come.”

And the lingering green aura around his father brought Adrien to tears.

“Adrien!” He lurched forward. “Adrien, are you in pain?”

“No,” Adrien sniffed, “just... just the opposite, actually.”

Forgetting all about propriety, about his injuries, Adrien threw his arms forward and hugged his father for all it was worth. For the first few seconds, he remained frozen, but only then. Afterwards, surprisingly strong arms embraced him. Held him with something so primal and true that Adrien doubted he would ever get hurt again. And he loved it. He drowned in the scent of his father's cologne, the most refined, mellow fragrance money could buy. He buried himself in the warmth of his father's arms around his shoulders. His father was _here_ . And all it had taken was for him to be _hurt_.

For a frightening instant, Adrien thought dodging the next akuma's blows would be harder than ever before. It was almost exhilarating. Knowing it took only a little pain and... he could see his father again.

No, he could not do that to his Princess and to Nathanaël. Not to Father either.

But hell if that thought hadn't been mesmerizing...

After minutes – hours –, Adrien loosened his grip, regretfully, and let his father lower him back against his pillow. The last time such a thing had happened had been years ago. When his mother...

Adrien rubbed his eyes, sniffling and laughing at the same time.

He did not let go of his father's hand.

The long, thin fingers squeezed, and another pulse of heat warmed up Adrien's heart.

His father glanced at the bandages.

“It was during a photoshoot, sir,” Nathalie answered the obvious question. “Surrounded by our staff. I believe he and Mrs. Deschênes were doing the stander banter between model and photograph when Adrien suddenly doubled over in pain.”

“Did you-?”

“Background checks have been run on every person in attendance, Mr. Agreste,” Nathalie cut in with her professional voice. “Nothing seems to indicate any evidence of foul play. Examining his clothing and his surroundings, we found no object that could have caused such a burn. We must assume that this might be related to the supernatural events currently happening in Paris.”

Gabriel Agreste spoke with a thick, heavy voice. “You think this is the doing of one of those akumas? It seems different from their usual motives.”

“Circumstances make it the most probable explanation, sir.”

One of his hands twitched, as if they had restrained from movement somehow. His gaze however had not left the bandaged spot on Adrien's chest. “It is only a burn, correct? Nothing more?”

Adrien didn't know how to react to that.

“It can easily be hidden with makeup,” Nathalie said in the stretching silence. “Our makeup department is absolutely confident.”

Father's words were slow. Hesitant. Troubled in a way Adrien had never imagined possible before. “Yes... Good.” His knuckles whitened around the picture. “Perhaps it would be best if Adrien's schooling was in a more... controlled environment for the time being?”

Adrien's mouth opened to protest.

Nathalie said “I see no benefits to it, Mr. Agreste.”

It was a good thing Adrien was lying down, else he would have fallen right on his ass. Had... had Nathalie stood up to his Father? For him?

“While it would be easier to arrange for a perfectly controlled environment for your son inside the mansion, the akumas' menace surpasses what we can humanly master at the moment. After all, he was in a secure location for the photoshoot, and whatever monster did this, none of our precautions were sufficient.”

His frown tightened. He did not raise his voice. “I believe you had assured me that there should be no risk to my son.”

Adrien thought that Nathalie truly could not possess human emotions at that moment, for anyone else would have shrivelled before the rumbling anger in their employer's eyes. She was standing as still and straight as a statue.

“I shall look into it, Mr. Agreste,” she said, and Adrien had to strain his ears to hear the most minute tremble within.

“See that you do.”

No one could have blamed her for leaving at the speed she did. But Adrien only thought he would have to hug her. To thank her profusely for defusing his father's paranoia so swiftly. But he had no voice with which to speak. He could only look helplessly at his father, emotions boiling under the surface in a way that made him scared.

Father had always been a model of self-control and restraint on a level that sometimes seemed inhuman. No one had seen him shed a tear on the day of his wife's disappearance. Adrien couldn't remember ever hearing him speak with more than cold disdain, subdued happiness, careful neutrality.

But now the man stood next to Adrien's bed and seemed utterly unable to think of what to do next. His eyes lingered on Adrien, maintaining eye contact for but a few seconds before going over the medical reports scattered around his bedside table, and finally on the small armchair right in the corner.

Adrien almost thought that his father would sit down. Would _stay_.

“I...” He cleared his throat. “I see that you are doing as well as possible at the moment. I will let you rest. Do not hesitate to call the nurses or Nathalie if you have need of anything. They... they will take care of you, son.”

“I will.”

It was nearly a smile, on Gabriel Agreste's face. “Good. Do not worry about anything. Just focus on your recovery.” The fondness faded. “I must unfortunately return. There were rather important meetings that I postponed for this. I'll have Nathalie give me an update on your health later.”

And without more ceremony, he turned around to leave.

Adrien had raised his arm, reached for his father's back, but mere inches away, had flinched back.

His father was obviously very busy. It was fine. He should go back to the company. Try to get back on track with his work. The thought made him smile. _Get back._ His father had left work behind for him. It was enough. It ought to be.

Adrien captured the thought and held it tight in his chest. There, it radiated a warmth he had almost forgotten.

_He looked at me._

\--

The next morning, around the time he would normally be on break sitting at his desk at the front of the class, Adrien's phone buzzed. Eager, he grappled with it and unlocked the screen. Nino's number appeared in the corner, overseeing a short but surprisingly well-spelled message.

“ _Hey, Adrien, I hope you're feeling better. I can't pop up right now because classes, but as soon as they are over, I'm going to see you.”_

Adrien felt a small smile tugging at his lips. Quickly, he began to type 'Thanks, bro.' then, with a thought for his teammates, he added 'Everyone okay?'

Nino's pause stretched long enough to make Adrien consider opening a link to the Ladyblog.

“ _Yeah. Well, sorta._ ”

Adrien frowned. He did not like the sound of that. “Sorta, how?”

“ _It's. Actually, gimme a sec.”_

Huh. Probably not an emergency that would require Paon's help then. Good thing too, because while the pain had mostly subdued by now, there remained a faint throb to the wound. And fear started slowly trickling down his veins as he once more thought of his miraculous. He had not lied to Nathalie when he said he didn't know _why_ he had been burned. But there was no doubt in his mind that his miraculous had flared because he had lied. Somehow, someway, he had lied in a way so bad that the brooch on his chest had seared into him the consequences of trifling with its power.

Would it accept him still? Was that why Juuno hadn't spoken to him yet? His kwami had to know. Was he ashamed? Had he... had he finally managed to screw up so bad Juuno would leave him?

His phone buzzed between his fingers as a beeping noise shook him just barely out of the beginning of a panic attack. Gratefulness surged within him toward his amazing best friend, and he opened up his text messages.

“ _Alya recorded it. Check this out.”_

Of course, Alya had recorded it. She had the instincts of a true paparazzi, though fortunately with more ethics.

Slightly worried, Adrien clicked on the 'play' symbol, uneasy at the sight of their classroom in the background.

Now, the video had clearly been started in the middle of whatever was happening, because as soon as the video loaded, Adrien heard Chloé's oh so recognizable cries of anguish.

...Except with actual anguish within this time.

She stumbled down the stairs of the class, her eyes wild, her makeup almost _running_ and so uncoordinated he was convinced she would trip. Already so weirdly out of character, she almost shrieked as a pen hit her in the back of her head, and Adrien mumbled an indignant 'really, guys?' toward whomever had thought it a good time to kick her while she was down.

Mrs. Bustier at least thought so as well, throwing a glare at the back of the classroom whilst the camera whirled around just as they blinked out of their daze.

“We didn't throw it!” protested his classmates, and anyone not seeing the flickers of green light surrounding them would have dismissed it out of hand.

Adrien's stomach turned.

His classmates laughed when Chloé rambled incoherent excuses and ran out of the classroom completely dishevelled, pelted by school supplies. None of them could see the flashes of green light when she protested the teacher's warnings, when she begged to be believed. It made every hair on his arms stand in frigid horror. The situation looked right out of a ghost story.

_Chloé..._

“ _What do you think? Did she just get crazy creative with excuses to leave class? I mean, seriously, unicorns?”_

Adrien's fingers hovered just above a certain unamused emoticon. Seriously? No one thought this might be an akuma's doing? Surely, someone would have mentioned --

Wait, Nathanaël was at the back of the class. He would have been able to see that no one had been pelting Chloé with stuff. Which meant Chat Noir would soon be on the case, and with any luck, would be spotted by Marinette. If she hadn't also deduced that an akuma was around.

Typing a quick, meaningless reply, Adrien put down his phone and shot a wary look to the bandages covering the throbbing burn mark. Here goes nothing...

“Juuno?”

A blob of blue flew out from behind a flowerpot on the windowsill. Painfully dragging a still red fan-like piece of jewelry. If a nurse had come by, she might have mistaken it for a rosebud fallen from the pot, at first glance.

Adrien half-reached for his miraculous, but hesitated as Juuno floated closer. “Can I?”

“Can you?”

The magic gripped him at his throat, and he let it all out at once. The electrifying feeling tickled his tongue, moved it. “If I make things right.”

It could have been the lighting, but Juuno seemed to be smiling.

As soon as his fingers touched the brooch, its red glaze washed off like wet paint under the rain. From angry red, it returned to a cool, calm turquoise.

With a sigh of relief, Adrien threw off the covers of his bed and climbed out the window. “Wings out.”

Nathalie had been right. The cause of his burn had been an akuma attack.

\--

The latest in a long string of mistakes had snuck up on him to slap him in the face.

Paon's investigation had been quick, to the point. All he needed was a minute alone in the teacher's room to confirm his suspicion. On Mrs. Bustier's desk, a small note had been written down in red.

STUDENT GONE MISSING. WARN FRIENDS.

Right underneath was the school picture, and a face circled in red ink.

Snarling, Paon had ran out of the room and leaped through the window. He had been right. His miraculous had punished him for a promise he had almost forgotten about till yesterday.

“ _I'm just saying, if she gives you trouble, you can come talk to me. I'll be there for you, okay?”_

Paon's boots skidded across the rooftop and he dropped down to his knees. His fists tremblings, he punched the nearest chimney hard enough to leave an imprint. He had been so distracted. So focused on his own happiness... why hadn't he thought of her?

Chloé had been around him more than ever lately. But he had barely spared her a thought. The Rogercop incident... he'd remembered her, in the corner. He'd been there, said a few words...

In their class, there was one student missing. One that no one had bothered to ask about, because she only ever spoke when Chloé did. Or when he did. Occasionally.

The ghost, as it turned out, was one he had made a promise to. His miraculous had not taken kindly to his broken word. Sabrina had been left prey to Hawk Moth while he was posing in front of a camera.

He could have done more. A lot more, but he hadn't. It had slipped his mind! He had a seared fan-like burn mark over his chest for his trouble, and he had already started hated looking at it. It hadn't looked like it would heal anytime soon. Parts of him were viciously satisfied with that, but others wondered how long his father's concern would last before it turned into an annoyance, or worse, just another part of his life to manage like clockwork.

Still, that had helped no one, and Juuno had been quick to push him into the fray. There would be time later, when someone wasn't being attacked (in surprisingly small and petty ways) by an akuma. Of all of Hawk Moth's victims to target Chloé, this one was the mildest. Deep down, Adrien was pretty sure there was a reason for that.

(If it were him... if the target was someone he loved... he could only hope that the attacks would be as petty as _hair pulling._ )

He remembered when a loved one of _his_ had been akumatized, worse yet on his behalf. The Bubbler... sometimes he wondered if he really deserved Nino's friendship. Between his heroics and his job as a supermodel, their actual times to hang out were usually far and few in-between. Sometimes limited to an hour stolen here or there to play online.

Chloé... he hadn't done anything with her in weeks. Maybe she had clung to him at school because of that. Maybe she'd taken it out on Sabrina at some point.

Regardless, there was only one destination in his mind. The Bourgeois' hotel.

 _The_ chic destination for high-end tourists, celebrities and everyone feeling like an overpriced night surrounded by opulence. Also, an ancient playground of his, whenever Chloé and him were allowed a play date. He had been here less and less over the years, his job as a model slowly taking over his time until only the occasional visit to Chloé's room remained.

And nowadays? Not even that.

He'd miss the way she had changed. When she only put the most syrupy act around him, when he only ever saw her on occasions, it wasn't that big of a surprise. But today... today he would have tried stepping in. She had looked dead tired. A bit pathetic. And that, thought, did not fit the girl he knew, not in the slightest.

With a complete lack of his usual fanfare, Paon slipped inside. His boots touched down softly on the luxurious red carpet, though he might not have needed to bother. For one reason or another, the reception desk was currently unmanned.

He frowned.

“Can she make people disappear too?” he asked out loud, mostly to break the uneasy silence in the shining, marble entry.

He hadn't expected to hear a faint noise of fabric brushing together.

His heart jumping in his throat, he crossed his arms over his chest – over his _miraculous_ – and pretended to mull it over. His thoughtful pout likely could have used some work, but exaggeration was one of his trademarks. He just needed to be subtle about it, just needed to turn around naturally...

And not freeze.

Wisps of dark blue clashed so hard with the hotel's decoration, even half-hidden behind a pillar. They twirled like a tangled net over empty air, the corrupted butterfly hidden beneath a pulsing point of magic. The vague outline of a person not much smaller than him remained perfectly immobile, a sphere that could pass off as a head semi-turned in his direction.

Paon deliberately let his eyes glide over the akuma, keeping just the faintest hint of blue at the very edge of his sight. He made as if he headed toward the stairs. Every step, like he owned the place, confident, (hips, strut, model walk, _yes, you know it, Marinette_ ). She was close. Unmoving, staring. She was close, _closer-_

He lunged. “I can see you, Sabrina!”

Instead of meeting him head on like most akumas, she ducked under his swing and ran for the hills. It would have dumbfounded him.

But like every akuma, calling her by her real name was a button to press carefully. “I'm the Vanisher!”

The blue lines thickened, and Paon refrained from grinning. _Clear as day._

His jump put him right in the akuma's path. He couldn't resist offering his open hand to her. “I'm here, Sabrina. I can help you with whatever it is you're dealing with.” _Like I promised._

“It's Vanisher!” the akuma spat, a raging mass of blue charging him straight on.

Yeah. He hadn't thought that was going to work. With a grimace, he somersaulted his way up the railing leading up to the second floor. The Vanisher's shadow nearly faceplanted into the wall below, but only nearly. The wisps of blue faded, and no impact shook him off his perch.

But the two faces that suddenly eclipsed the left half of his sight was responsible for making his heart near explode.

“Oh, hello beautiful!” he chirped.

Her knowing smirk did things to his stomach. “I know Chat's pretty, but not the time to flirt, Birdie.”

Chat blushed and snickered. Paon himself found it hard not to.

“There's an akuma on the loose,” she said. “It's targeting Chloé Bourgeois.”

He pinched his lips together. “You don't say?”

The image of Chat Noir turned to his left, sceptical as Ladybug frowned. “What are you doing?”

“I'm fighting an invisible person. Right now. Ground floor in the Bourgeois' hotel. I'll await your arrival, like a lost duckling on the road that needs his mama bird.” His inviting smile brutally froze as he caught sight of blue smoke _very_ close to his chest. His legs reacted before he did, and it was only in midair that he shouted “Hey! Stop trying to put your hands all over my hot model body!”

The Vanisher's assault temporarily stopped, and Paon regretted not being able to see the blush he was sure must have decorated her face. A shame too, the communication with his teammates had been cut rather abruptly, he had the usage of both his eyes again.

“I'm not– this isn't–! I just want the miraculous, you hear me?!” The Vanisher _bellowed_.

“Well, when you shout like that...” he trailed off with a grin. “I can hear what you want loud and clear.”

“I want you to shut up!”

Amusingly enough, that last part was the truth.

Paon saw the arm aiming for his throat just in time to duck underneath. Sadly, his own spinning kick missed the mark by a hairbreadth, and the aura was already fading.

“So you want to fight superheroes?” he drawled, just as Chat Noir touched down next to him, his staff spinning.

“It was the deal! I'll do it if it gets me what-”

Green.

Pink, as the outline of a mask.

The flash of pink light was near instantaneous, and Sabrina fell oddly silent.

_Shoot, Hawk Moth noticed._

“You can see her?” Chat Noir breathed.

“Sorta. When she was answering me, I saw a general outline of her body.” He resisted the urge to massage his forehead. It probably wouldn't even work with his mask still on. “And if I focus really hard, I can see the akuma itself regardless, though it fades when I'm not looking. But hey, good to see a friendly face around here. There's so few people I can be transparent with.”

Chat Noir snorted softly. “That was terrible. I have to say it on Ladybug's behalf.”

Paon risked a glance around, one hand close to his miraculous. “And on your own?” he asked with a lazy grin.

“It was only a little funny.”

Chat Noir obviously flashed green. Paon barked out a laugh. “Good enough for me! One pun at a time...”

His favourite voice in the whole wide world replied “You're a real mockingbird, you know that?”

Grinning widely, he bowed with flourish. “Oh, but I'd be anything for you, Princess.”

She bumped into him, playful, but not without a hint of sadness. “Don't say things like that. I don't want you as anything but you. You're our sweet songbird, Paon. Don't change.”

“Aww, you're making me blush.” Paon Bleu scratched his cheek, well aware that he was red in the face.

At that point, what he expected was a friendly jab, something about him stating the obvious when he was tongue-tied. Maybe Nath would even try another teasing line at his expense.

What Paon wasn't prepared for was the sound of someone stampeding their way down the stairs, and then the sight of another polka-dot red suit while its wearer almost failed their heroic landing.

“Tremble, Hawk Moth! You'll rue the day you sent an akuma after Ladybug's number one fan!”

Oh. Adrien would be the first to admit he had forgotten that time they had caught Chloé cosplaying as Ladybug. Credit where credit was due, the costume itself had been professionally made and with material closely resembling the original.

Paon Bleu and Chat Noir shuddered as one. It was almost like looking at a twisted, cruelly sadistic reflection of the real world. True, the kwamis had standards, but if Hawk Moth could have a miraculous of his own, then Chloé Bourgeois was not completely out of the realm of possibilities.

“YOU!” roared the Vanisher as a table lifted in the air.

Paon summed it up thusly: “Crap.”

“Chat!” called Ladybug. “Protect Chloé!”

Nathanaël pulled a face, but charged in dutifully. With one graceful movement, he swung his baton full force into the table and sent it breaking on the ground in an explosion of sawdust and splinters. Chloé predictably shrieked in worry and disgust.

“Hey! Watch it! That's our prized mahogany table!”

“I could have let it hit your face if you'd prefer,” Chat Noir grumbled under his breath.

Paon _should_ have pointed out that this really wasn't heroic at all. But he also couldn't find it in him to blame Nathanaël. Ungrateful rescue were amongst the most irritating parts of the job.

“Paon!” Ladybug called, and he whirled around, realizing that she was attempting to fight the invisible akuma head on.

Without thinking anymore, he jumped right in, sliding under his Princess' yo-yo swipe with a roll and kicking what would appear to be thin air. Squinting, he saw a glimpse of blue running the way around them.

“Princess, to your right.”

A yo-yo flew forth in the akuma's path.

A yo-yo that did not belong to their supreme leader.

With an uneven swerve, the toy missed the akuma by a good mile, but struck the nearest vase with eerie precision. As the yo-yo bounced off, the vase toppled over, every rose spilling onto the ground, a resounding crash telling them of the fate of the precious pottery.

A yelp of indignation told him whom the yo-yo had hit.

“Chat, keep her out of the way!” growled a very unamused Ladybug.

“I'm trying!” Chat Noir protested as he caught the thrown Chloé.

“Hey, wait, I can help!”

Paon tripped as he saw the flash of green that surrounded her. His Princess however did not even turn to look, throwing her yo-yo where the Vanisher had bumped into a railing. “Where is the butterfly?” she asked between two swings. “You think it could be her handbag?”

“No,” his mouth answered for him. “It's not her handbag, or anything inside it. Maybe- CHAT!”

Chat Noir jumped back with a startled yell, his left hand clenched tight despite the invisible pull on it. His right hand swung his baton down, hard. It shocked a gasp out of the Vanisher, but when he moved in to catch her, the string of Chloé's yo-yo tripped him.

She didn't even seem to notice as she kept swinging the toy blindly in front of her, like that would save the day.

“Chloé!” Marinette shouted. “Get out of here!” And for once, didn't sound very concerned about the girl's security.

“Ladybug! It has to be in her brooch. I gave it to her.” The disguised Chloé called out, reaching for her idol with a strange fervour. “It's like her most prized possession!”

And the tragic part? She was telling the truth.

Ladybug's eyes twitched.

Too still. Wisps of blue snuck around her vulnerable left side, and it was his part to jump in and struggle with the Vanisher. But even when he got her arms, mere inches away from Ladybug, the girl had some surprising strength and wrestled away quickly. “Ladybuuuug...” he chimed, his urgency piercing through.

But she hadn't even turned back. Far from it. The anger he saw burned in her dreamy sapphire-like eyes almost shocked him.

“Why would I believe _anything_ you say? You lied to us! You're the reason this girl has been akumatized and you tried to hide it!”

That... was news to him. But Ladybug was wrapped in green, bright vibrant green, and he had no trouble imagining it happening. After all, Sabrina had to have had a reason to be chasing her 'best friend' and Chloé had never been one to admit to her mistakes. Against his chest, his miraculous tingled, like it agreed with what was said.

“You're always doing something like this! You've just endangered my teammates for no reason!”

He... he wanted to start yelling too. It was there, on the tip of his tongue. He could try cutting her, deep, deeper than anyone else had tried before, he would wager. Maybe she'd learn.

But there was an akuma on the loose, and a vase had just shattered against Chat Noir's staff.

“Ladybug!” he shouted over the arguing. “She's telling the Truth!”

Ladybug _startled,_ and for a moment looked lost. Her eyes found his, searched for an answer. Then, her expression tightened, turned pure steel, and she swallowed her pride. “Lucky Charm!” she yelled.

Glitter.

“Paon,” she smiled slyly. “Chat.”

“On it!” they shouted in unison.

Paon reached Vanisher first, catching her wrist, and gripping with both hands so hard she let out a gasp of pain. Chat Noir came next, with a swing to the back of her knees.

“Catch!”

The box of glitter sailed through the air, and hit him straight in the face. For a sparse few seconds, all Paon could see was a shower of red and black shining confetti. All he could breath as well, he found out a moment later, coughing.

Chat Noir and the Vanisher, by the sounds of it, fared no better.

All the better for Ladybug to sneak in and break the item. Paon found himself supremely grateful when the Restoration spell cleaned his windpipe of confetti. Magic was truly wonderful. Air. Wondrous, breathable air!

His relief lasted until he saw the akuma's darkness purified, and the shape of a petite teenager lying on the floor, slowly regaining consciousness.

“Huh? W-where am I?” Sabrina asked slowly.

“In the Bourgeois' hotel,” he replied. “You were akumatized. Ladybug just purified the akuma latched onto you.”

“Oh...” She paled. “Oh! Chloé! I didn't. Did I...? What is she going to think? She'll never forgive me!”

Paon couldn't open his mouth. There were words, an answer to that. Adrien would have chuckled a bit maybe, rubbed the back of his head, then promised to talk to her. But...

The burn mark under his costume throbbed.

He could be _wrong._ It would destroy Sabrina.

' _Words can break people, Adrien,_ ' Juuno had told him and he had never felt it so keenly as this before. Sabrina felt like she would break.

“She will,” Chat Noir was the one to say. “Everyone knows that akuma victims aren't to blame. She's your friend.”

Adrien's breath caught in his throat in sheer gratitude. Chat met his gaze, and the pain he saw made it obvious that he understood if not the implications, then the reason why the Truth-teller hadn't given reassurances. Worry was written on the red-head's face, the only feature Paon could see when he turned around to find said friend.

“Don't worry. I'm sure this-” Ladybug started to say, but she suddenly tensed.

Chloé had finally untangled herself from the mess of strings of her toy yo-yo and came running.

Right past the shivering, crying Sabrina.

Into his Princess's arms.

“Oh, Ladybug!” Chloé clamoured, pushing and hugging in an embrace Adrien had been taught was uncomfortable by experience. “I knew you would listen to me! We make such a great team!”

Without realizing it, Paon's hug tightened. Cold was dripping inside his chest, drop by drop. Sabrina's breathing had slowed. She gazed upon the girl cooing with _regret_ and _sorrow._ Then shrunk within his arms, making herself as small as possible. That was Chloé, his self-proclaimed best friend. Sabrina's actual best friend.

He couldn't begrudge the sheer anger that flashed on his Princess' face.

“I didn't listen to you,” Ladybug spat. “It was because _Paon_ told me. Why would I consider anything you say to be worth hearing? You're a pest, Chloé! Your best friend lays there, akumatized because of you and you don't even spare her a thought! But that's no surprise, you never consider anyone's feelings except your own. That's why, out of anyone in Paris, you're the one causing the most akumas! Hawk Moth owes you a big fat paycheck for all the work you do for him!”

Adrien watched as Chloé floundered for an excuse. “I, no, that's not... I wasn't...”

“And that little stunt you tried to pull in front of the cameras, _impersonating me_? What were you trying to do there?”

“I... I helped you!” she suddenly found her voice, stomping like she was going to throw a tantrum. “The akuma was in Sabrina's brooch! Just like I said!”

“Yes,” Ladybug drawled, rolling her eyes, “congratulations on being truthful for once in your life. You must have reached some sort of quota now.”

It hit. A part of Adrien that had just about given up gasped as Chloé startled, and looked truly hurt. For all the span of one heartbeat, her eyes appeared glossy. Her shaking hands formed fists, and she looked down, down at the costume she was wearing, and he could see outrage swell within her like a breath of hot air.

A custom-made, professionally made copy of her idol's costume.

Chloé ran, and one could mistake her cry of rage for a sob.

She had not looked to her best friend once.

Sabrina said nothing, her look distant, blank. Someone vindictive would have been viciously happy to hear about Ladybug tearing into someone that had hurt them. Someone more compassionate would have felt sympathy for the girl being yelled at by her idol. Sabrina... Sabrina looked almost haggard. She shivered under the gentle black paw on her shoulder.

“That was a bit... harsh,” Nathanaël said slowly.

“Was I lying?” Ladybug shot back, but her gaze fell on Paon.

With a sigh, he shook his head. If possible, he would have preferred his Princess not use him in arguments this way. Not that it would stop him from helping her. _Forever. Always._ “No. But the Truth isn't always kind, Princess.”

Ladybug huffed, but doubt had entered her gaze. Her posture wasn't quite as steady as it could be.

“Come on, boys, let's bring Sabrina to the paramedics outside.”

Something they could all agree on, he thought with an absent touch on his miraculous.

\--

He was watching the Creation spell for the second time that day, and the usual feeling of awe was simply not there. He couldn't. Its very contrast had been called out at the exact same time. Black where there was red, and red where there was black. An Anti-Charm to counter the Lucky Charm.

He usually had compassion for the victims by the buckets. Yes, even for those with seemingly stupid reasons like Mr. Pigeon or the Nice Cream Woman. Knowing that people's emotions were being exploited by a mastermind void of empathy sufficed to get Paon to care.

But he felt so _tired_ of dealing with this. The bold-faced lies, the whining, the bribes, the tantrums. He couldn't even look at his childhood friend's akumatization as anything other than one more tantrum. He knew, Truth be damned, he knew that it wasn't her fault – **for once** –, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Why should he when she never extended anyone else the courtesy?

“ _Sabrina...”_ he had said as he lingered a minute longer than his teammates. “ _I'm sorry._ ”

“What for?”

“ _I should have helped you earlier._ ”

Of course, his classmate hadn't understood. How could she? This was certainly the first time she talked to Paon for an extended period of time, and not just a few words whilst caught in the middle of an akuma attack. But he had made a promise to help her deal with Chloé, and he hadn't given it enough thought. He hadn't found a way to help when it really mattered.

Chloé hadn't changed at all since he had started attending. It didn't matter that he told her he hated it, she only listened when it was something convenient. He had really thought… he had thought she would try. That she cared enough about his opinions to…

Nope. That was just wishful thinking. Chloé didn't like sharing. Not him, not the spotlight, not her vast fortune or status. Not a single miserable thing. Compromising was for other people.

His brooch had buzzed, as if Juuno wanted to coo in sympathy as he sometimes did. It had helped a bit, but not enough. Adrien had been completely off his game when Chloé herself had been akumatized over Ladybug's words.

And then she had tied him up to the hotel's room to be rescued. He was so off his game.

Adrien had rarely been that humiliated.

Of course there would be a helicopter flying around. Live broadcast, Paon being manhandled like a rookie. Except the team's rookie had actually rescued him and bought time for Ladybug to recharge after the fight with Vanisher.

“Thanks, Chat,” and he had been perfectly sincere about it, as well as bitter. Really bitter.

“Are you okay?”

Paon hadn't been able to answer that, and his teammate had grown supremely uncomfortable. His gaze hadn't left him for the rest of the fight, and even now, on top of the roof, there was a slight protectiveness to his posture, his baton inched a little in front of Paon.

Which, Adrien would admit, was nice, seeing as the Anti-Charm had produced a sword that he dubbed a mammoth cleaver.

“Look at yourself, Ladybug. So weak. Always relying on your boys to do your work for you while you get all the glory!”

The lie was so weak that it was almost too much of a bother to refute it. Wasn't Ladybug taking on Antibug one-on-one right this very moment? Or was that meant to infuriate her? They could all clearly see that it did nothing to their team leader.

“Oh, sparrow us the diatribe.” Still, he had a reputation to maintain. So, Paon Bleu showed both of his empty hands to Antibug, grinning. “Me and what weapon?”

Chat Noir snorted. Loudly _._

“Oh yeah, she's always relying on me when I get brainwashed. It's crazy how she relies on me during those times. Nothing like your teammate trying to claw your face off to really help you get on your feet.”

Really, her insults made sense to an akuma at best. Or a fangirl in denial. _Looking at you, Chloé._

“Shut up!”

“Oh!” He hit his open palm with his fist as if he had suddenly understood. “That's how she thinks we are always helping Ladybug! By talking up a storm!”

“Guys,” Ladybug said between two muffled bouts of laughing. “You're actually not helping me focus.”

“You hear that?” Paon leaned on the heels of his boots. “She just implied we're actually a hindrance.”

“That kinda destroys Chloé's argument doesn't it?”

“You'll see who destroys who!” Antibug shrieked, charging.

Oh, yes, they saw.

They saw a bag of marble triumph over a mammoth cleaver without breaking a sweat.

“Just saying, throwing a sword might not have been the brightest move.”

Paon sputtered. “It was cool!”

“…Touché,” Chat Noir admitted with a small smile.

Together, the both of them lazily walked up to the center of the pool, where Ladybug was kneeling next to a still confused Chloé.

“I was wrong to yell like that,” Ladybug said, and Paon tried not to flinch at the ugly mixture of green and blue dancing over his Princess' skin. “I do believe in what I said however. Chloé, you _hurt_ people. Badly. Does it feel good to wake up and wonder how you ended up on the ground, surrounded by exhausted superheroes?”

“I'm always happy to be around you.”

Ladybug gave her a look.

“Okay, okay, sorry.” Chloé averted her eyes. “I'm... I'm not comfortable with having a hole in my memory. Like not knowing why one minute I was in my room, and then the next I'm on a rooftop. This _is_ still Daddy's place, right?”

“Yup,” Paon drawled.

Ladybug didn't react to his tone. “Chloé, if you admire me, then you have to be more careful of other people's feelings. And today, it was Sabrina's hurt that you forgot. I know you two are always together. She's always there to help you. Doesn't that deserve a bit of consideration from you?”

To Adrien's surprise and relief, Chloé had the good grace to look uneasy. “I... I suppose. I mean, if you say so.”

Ladybug almost looked like she wanted to add something, but ended up smiling. “Good. Am I forgiven then?”

“Oh, Ladybug, of course you're forgiven!”

Paon Bleu left soon after that. Obviously his teammates had it under control, and the eyes on his miraculous had nearly had disappeared. The transformation broke only a block away from the hotel.

Adrien leaned against the disgusting wall of the alley he had hidden in, feeling as if his strength was slowly leaving him.

“Juuno, where is the Chloé I knew growing up?”

“She changed. That's the bottom of things.” His kwami stared intensely. “The question is if you are still friend with the girl she grew up into.”

“I...” Was he? He liked to think they were. That Chloé's syrupy kindness meant something to him. She _smiled_ around him, even if they were some weird... infatuated things. Sometimes, when no one paid attention, she was... less... less everything. Less aggressive, less dismissive. “I... I want to be. I hate what she does, but I know she tries when it's me. I don't want her alone either.”

“Then she'll be happy to see a friendly face after being akumatized.”

The fact that it hadn't occurred to him was a bit worrying. It had to be because he had already seen her as Paon and Ladybug had been there. That was all the reassurance the girl needed. But he still ran back inside the pompous hotel until he found her.

“Adrikins!” She near tackled him. “You came to comfort me!”

Oh yeah, she was in top-form. He allowed himself a bit of a smile at that. A small one.

\--

He had been staring at the contact number for a while now. He had had time to take a shower, sit down and offer Juuno an extra big bowl of blueberries. He had made a halfhearted attempt at completing the homework Nino had brought him to his hospital room before giving up. He'd been thinking on what to write.

At some point though, he'd lied down on his bed and hit the 'Send' button.

“Hey, Sabrina. I checked on Chloé, she's okay. What about you? It has been a while since we talked, today notwithstanding. I don't think we texted more than a handful of times before. Next time you feel down, just give me a sign and I'll try to help.”

It took a moment for her to reply. Adrien tried to imagine the scene. Quiet, mostly meek Sabrina at home, perhaps with her parents – because what parents wouldn't be there for their child after Hawk Moth had gotten his claws in them? –, looking up at her phone and seeing the name next to the number. She'd probably panic a bit, as she always did when they met face to face, and then she'd look right and left, afraid of a sign of Chloé–

Adrien's smile slipped off his face.

“ _Thank you, Adrien.”_

It didn't look like she would volunteer more on her own.“So, have you and Chloé made up yet? I heard Ladybug told her she was too harsh on you.”

“ _Oh… well, I haven't heard anything yet, but if Ladybug talked to Chloé, it's probably going to be fine.”_

Adrien scrunched up his nose. Wait, that didn't sound nearly as good as it should.

Juuno, reading over his shoulder, scoffed and shook his head. It made Adrien's fingers shake for his next reply.

“Say, what have you been up to recently? I was mostly busy because of my modelling,” – and superhero activities – “so, haven't heard from you and Chloé in a while.”

“ _Well, Chloé wanted to go on a bit of a shopping spree to celebrate her father's reelection, but the Dark Knight kinda ruined that.”_ Oh yeah, his fencing teacher. The man hadn't been nearly as talkative as before.

“Darn. That is unlucky.”

“ _Yeah. But we just went the next day instead._ ”

He tried a few more replies after that. None of them seemed very good, but he couldn't think of much more. His eyes were starting to feel heavy. Things just weren't clicking like they did with his Princess, or even with Nat. The whole thing was… awkward. More than he had expected. Sabrina and him didn't have much in common beyond Chloé. Well, no, that wasn't quite true. There was something buried in her, like the lot of desires and wants and hopes had all been beaten down to the most inner layer of his heart. Paon had been his key to freedom.

The mark on his chest itched. Idly, he scratched it through his gown. Would it heal normally? He hadn't really thought to ask Juuno about it before. Last he checked, it seemed as red and sensitive as when it had first appeared.

“Say… why didn't you text me yesterday? I could have tried talking to Chloé for you.”

Minutes ticked by without any sign of life.

It probably had been too personal. As the akumatization and his miraculous had proved, Sabrina and him weren't actually close friends.

But when he sighed and placed his phone on the nightstand, it buzzed back to life.

“ _Chloé made me delete your number._ ”

His stomach churned. That wasn't right.

And there they were again, Chloé's eyes, troubled, guilty when he inadvertently hit the bull's eyes on his first day of school. “Would you rather have her think I did it instead? When it wasn't even me?” he whispered, looking to his bland white ceiling. Yes, yes she would have. She would rather Sabrina not take any of his time.

“Juuno,” he called, willing the little kwami to just take his phone out of his hand and fix everything. “What should I do?”

Juuno hovered close, a mysterious smile on his face. “You know what I would do.”

That made him a bit more confident. He did, actually. His fingers rose to touch the ridge of his nose, looking for the familiar weight of a blue mask. He found none, but a little courage.

“Sabrina, I asked Chloé what was going on. And since I am fluent in Chloé-speak, I can say… it wasn't your fault. You two were playing a game together. Chloé left it to impersonate Ladybug on television without telling you and she was mad that her lie was seen through. Her reaction was even worse. She should have never said something like that to you.”

The answer to that was short, but it hit him like a freight train.

“ _I made her mad.”_

For a startling moment, he saw a little blond boy waiting by the door to a mansion, knowing that in just a moment his dad would come through and wish him a happy birthday. He would. Because birthdays were special times when you told people you were happy they were around. His dad would. He only had to wait. And wait. The boy's mother had told him it wasn't his fault, but the boy knew. He had done something wrong. He had to have. That was the reason Father hadn't come. He would be better next time. It had been his fault. He made Father ashamed.

His breathing slowed.

The perfect little model boy. And where was Father now?

– In a hospital room, rushing, looking shaken,

then gone, gone, gone,

because he couldn't _stay!_ –

He pressed his fingers against the screen with heavy blows, shaking. “She got mad because her lies got blown in her face. The only person to blame was herself! She should have never said that to you. You didn't deserve to be blamed for it, Sabrina. It was not your fault. And she is a bad friend if she would throw you away for her own stupid misbehaving!”

Those that expected perfection had no right to be disappointed! Those that expected others to exist for their own sake…

Adrien let go of his phone, for fear he would break it. His hand had cramped from gripping it so tightly. The frame had given a wince, as if crying for mercy. He growled. He let out a frustrated shout. Then, lied down again, breathing a bit harder.

Sabrina hadn't replied yet. Maybe she wouldn't later either.

“I think I'll be going to sleep. I'm beat. But stay in touch, okay?”

While he turned off the lights in his room, Adrien kept a watch on his phone. He even forced himself to stay awake as long as possible, just in case she gave any sign of acknowledgement.

In the middle of the night, long after he had gone asleep to the rhythm of nurses pushing around trolleys, his phone buzzed again. _“Thank you.”_

The next day, in class, he dared hope when Chloé gave Sabrina a very expensive looking accessory as an apology, a rare honest smile on her face.

\--

Chloé caused the next akuma.

Adrien nearly _screamed_.

School picture. His first and only school picture, ruined because of petty arguments, and one of his poor classmate locked in the bathroom after hoping to God that she wasn't a bad luck charm for her friends.

He had pleaded for Chloé to stop making so much trouble and just let the photographer work.

Into one ear, out the other. It was like she had a filter that tuned out everything that wasn't what she wanted to hear.

“Juuno, one day, you will have to just, I dunno, jump in her face and force her to look into a mirror! She's out of control!”

There was a flicker of bitter amusement on the kwami's face. “It doesn't work like that.”

“Are you sure I can't cast a spell? Like, force someone to see the truth about themselves and make them so repentant they become a nun?”

Juuno gave him a very serious look. “No, and that would be a horrible spell.”

“But I would enjoy it.”

“At first.”

Adrien tried, truly, he tried to keep the anger going, to imagine Chloé being forced to look at herself and break down and become repentant. He tried to keep that image going as long as he could, seeing her cry bitter tears and begging forgiveness and leaving. Crying, begging, crying. Leaving forever. The vindictive feeling faded. Then, reluctantly, “At first.”

But he would _still_ enjoy it for a time.

\--

Ladybug shielded her eyes as the Reflekta in front of her exploded into a show of blue and green light.

“Princess,” Paon went down to one knee, his right arm across his chest in deference. Then, his eyes twinkling, “Missed me?”

She gazed upon him with an open mouth and very wide eyes. Seconds passed in uncomfortable silence while Paon tried not to shift and ease the numbness in his knees. Then, Ladybug raised one finger in the air, pointed it at him. “… Explain.”

It was more of a question than an order, really.

Paon's smile was a smug thing for the ages. He got to show off so little, in his humble opinion. “I can only be truthful. That's the deal. Being one of Reflekta's copy is not who I am. Still, that was a bit more powerful than the average akuma curse, so maybe it lasted two or three minutes.”

Ladybug stared at him, a smirk pulling at her lips. “You know, the longer we fight, the more I'm starting to think you got a pretty good deal when it comes to powers, Birdie.”

Now, Paon had to deploy every imaginable effort not to strut.

Ladybug knew him too well not to notice. “Let me guess, you can tell which one is the real Reflekta.”

“No such thing as a real Reflekta, Princess, but for the purpose of efficiency, we'll go with that. Yes, yes I can. She's not in the courtyard. They're all just frightened students, half of which will get some pretty heavy body dysphoria. The rest will only be getting regularly heavy dysphoria.”

If Ladybug noticed the growing tightness of his voice, she did not say anything.

Juuno had the right idea. Lies sucked. But lies told by Hawk Moth? They were their own special kind of awful. They were manipulative claws in the dark that sunk deep in someone's heart and ripped it asunder. No one cared about white lies because they didn't hurt anyone. But Hawk Moth's... Hawk Moth's reached inside a person in a special, twisted way.

“Juleka wanted people to notice her, but she is actually trying to hide herself deeper amongst the crowd. It's a perverse manipulation of her desires. Like she could only belong if she was the same as everyone else.”

_Look at me. I'm here. I'm not invisible!_

All he could see in the middle of a sea of panicking transformed teenager was the back of his father. That tall, looming figure that looked to the open window. Ignoring him. Speaking to the world outside more than to the son that was just hoping for a glance.

For even a tiny bit of acknowledgement.

_Look at me, Father!_

“She just wanted to be seen for once.” The railway winced under his grip. “To feel like she wasn't invisible and Hawk Moth is making her harder to see than ever before!”

A gentle hand fell over his. With a jolt, he glanced back at Ladybug. She understood. It was written in her bluebell eyes. Ladybug hated liars too. She reserved them a special place on her personal blacklist. And right now, there were faint traces of sickness in her features.

“We'll save her, like we saved everyone else,” she whispered.

The green was unnecessary. “I know, Princess.” Heat fluttered in his chest like butterflies. His hand caught hers, turning to look her straight in the eyes. He leaned a bit closer. The words were a whisper. “I have faith in you. In us. Always.”

_Always. Forever._

“Paon...” Ladybug said in a murmur, neither leaning in or away.

Until a banging noise of metal against the railing caused them both to whirl around, weapons and fists raised.

Chat Noir tensed up like a cat hanging over a bath, and blushed so his entire head looked tomato red. “Sorry! I was caught in the crowd. Nearly got zapped by Reflekta.”

They forced themselves to relax, to act as if it was only the fear of the akuma's presence making them react as such.

Even if it didn't explain their blushes. “No problem, Chat,” Ladybug dismissed with a wave of her hand. “Paon was, though.”

Chat let out a nervous laugh before slapping his claws over his mouth.

“Oh?” Paon leaned in, mischievous. “What's wrong? Thought it'd be funny to see your favourite bird-themed superhero turn into a pink sin against fashion? Not very team-like, I'd say. What do you say, Ladybug?”

“Eh.” She shrugged. “I'll allow it.”

“Betrayal!”

“Drama queen,” they deadpanned.

Which he didn't protest. Because, well, duh. He was a _peacock_.

“Now then, since I have both my subordinates, it's time to put on a plan in motion.”

\--

The Reflekta stepped inside with slow, clumsy steps. Under his mask, Adrien felt his eyebrows jump up in surprise, and annoyance. Wow, Hawk Moth wasn't even trying this time.

“Seriously?” Paon shouted from his hiding place. “You think one of your victims would fool me?”

That's when he heard the ruffling of an oversized dress moving.

“No, but it would give away your hiding place,” growled the real Reflekta, her hand lifted and the gem shining.

“Right back at you!” Chat shouted, barrelling into her. “Now, Ladybug!”

“Lucky Charm!”

It was a camera.

Briefly, he wondered if Marinette's kwami had a sense of humour. A flair for the dramatic, or heck, poetic justice.

_Talk about cosmic irony. Or maybe sheer cruelty._

The shadow that had possessed Juleka stumbled back from the flashes of light, stumbled away from pictures of her being taken, clear pictures in the dark. Clear pictures that were spilling to the ground, printed out as fast as they were taken, littering until Reflekta's high heels slipped on one.

Ladybug was on her, and the item broke the next instant. The Restoration spell's warmth and light came next, but it failed to bring much of a smile to his face. He only stared at his fallen classmate,

“You alright, Paon?”

He looked at the outstretched hand for a few seconds, then grinned and took it. “Yeah. Thanks for the save, Chat.”

Chat Noir grinned back, confident despite the faint blush lingering on his face. “My pleasure, Paon.”

Nathanaël was really coming into his own as a superhero, wasn't he? Soon, he'd be making puns left and right, and the circle would be complete. Ah, to be proud of his young padawan.

“Painted more murals yet?” he asked in a whisper.

Chat twirled his baton in his free hand, moving toward their classmate waking up. “There's one in-progress. I'll show you all when it's done. Maybe this time, it won't be in the news before I can show Ladybug.”

“Aw, you know she liked it. She told you.”

“What did I tell him?” Ladybug asked, amused as she usually was by their antics. “If Paon says I declared my eternal love for birds instead of cats, he probably tripped on his tongue as he said it.”

Nathanaël chuckled. “Yeah. Everyone knows cats are better than birds. Cats _eat_ birds.”

“Birds are the modern dinosaurs!”

“Guess the scientific community has got its confirmation right there,” Ladybug deadpanned.

A quiet groan cut their banter short.

Paon took the lead. “I'll bring Juleka back. I've still got plenty of time, but you two are going to change back any minute now.”

Ladybug raised a hand to feel her earrings, whilst Chat Noir glanced at his hand. The same, guilty grimace twisted their lips, and he gave them both a 'really?' look. He could take care of this. He didn't even _mind_.

“Shoo.” He waved both hands in their directions.

Their outrage was hilarious, for all the three seconds it lasted before their miraculous' beeping became much faster paced. They _bolted_. In different directions too.

Paon half-turned, fists against his hips, his confident demeanour shifting now that he was alone with a Juleka that was slowly coming back to her senses. He sighed. Then knelt just before his classmate, one hand outstretched for her to take.

“Are you okay?”

“Well, I have just been akumatized, so… yeah… could be better,” Juleka mumbled.

Fair point. Fair point. Luckily, he had plenty of experience with this part. He rather liked thinking he was good at it, though his Princess probably eclipsed him in that too. In everything, ever.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Juleka sighed. “I guess that I should, huh? Talking always help, and all that, right?”

“Depends on the person.” He shrugged. “And on the circumstances. But in your case, yes.”

As she sat up in the stairs, Juleka gave him a bemused smile. “That was the 'Truth', right?” she said, air quotes included. “Well, okay. Akumas looked cooler when I hadn't just turned into one.”

His eyes widened under his mask, just a little. “You think akumas look cool?”

“The whole 'people possessed by butterflies' thing notwithstanding? Yeah. They don't really scare me that much.”

 _Oh, right, the Horrificator. I nearly forgot that._ Not the almost-kiss with Marinette. Dear God, no! That, he just bemoaned for hours on end until Juuno was ready to smack him in the face with a blueberry. But he hadn't really registered that Juleka generally was more fascinated by creepy stuff than, you know, crept out.

“Huh,” he said, letting his legs dangle over the handrail. “So, wanna know what yours was like?”

Her mouth twisted. He thought he'd make a mistake, but she looked him up straight in the eyes, her bangs moving just enough to give him a glimpse of both. And they were strong. Determined. “Yeah. I'd like to know.”

“It was very pink.”

Juleka groaned. “I changed my mind.”

“You had a frilly dress. Mime makeup. Your _hair_ was pink, and frilly and like two antennas in a V-shape.”

“Oh my God...” she hid her face in her hands.

“You turned a lot of people into exact copies of you. Lots of girls and boys. Pretty sure you hit Kim. Myself too.”

She glared at him. “Should I apologize for that? I don't want to apologize for that.”

Paon rubbed the back of his head, fluffing up his very normal neon blue hair. “Eh, okay. Maybe I'm evacuating my own stress a bit too. It didn't last very long, but heck, I wasn't very comfortable.”

Her face softened and her gaze fell to her hands. They trembled. “Sorry. Didn't think my curse would get that drastic this year. Should have known.”

“Juleka. That was not your fault.”

Tears shone in her eyes. “Yes, it is. I might as well be invisible.”

He was on his knees, in front of her, his hands holding hers. He was looking at her. Looking straight at her, intensely enough that he could see the most minute details of her. He'd remember every single detail, just so he could tell her later that he still saw her. “You're not invisible! People were worried when you didn't come back. Some even called for you to be fetched. The only ones that didn't care were Chloé and the Principal. They're the ones in the wrong, not you.”

“The result is the same though. Another year, another missed picture.”

His voice shook, “I know how you feel.”

She looked up. She didn't need to say it. Her eyes screamed ' _You?_ ' loud and clear. And he knew what he acted like, he knew what Paon Bleu was thought of by most of Paris. He was their songbird, their proud peacock strutting his stuff and his joy for all of a city under siege. He was all that, he loved it, but that did not erase the rest.

“My father makes me feel invisible sometimes. It's like he can't stand to see me. I was hurt not long ago, and he stayed just long enough to see how bad it was. I haven't seen him since.”

Her hands squeezed his gently. “Same with my parents. They're never around either.”

“It's wrong.”

“It is what it is.”

The green and blue _taunted_ him.

His smile only grew more fierce. “Don't stop believing in people, Juleka. Some will disappoint you, but others will amaze you so much you'll forget all about your problems. I promise.”

–-

The group pictures they took in the park turned out so perfect Adrien hung copies of them over his bed. They weren't professional, by any stretch of the imagination, but he loved them more than his own very first class photo. Less formal, no one made weary by the changes. But smiles, smiles abound and laughter, jokes and teasing. And Juleka, always at the very center.

Some people always amazed him.

_Good job, Princess._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news everyone! I got some fanart for the fic the other day. My thanks to Cheeze, the artist who decided to bring to life her conception of Adrien as the Blue Peacock after reading my fic! 
> 
> You may go see a good representation of Paon on her tumblr. It is a bit of a mix with my description and the canon concept, as well as her vision. I certainly love it. Thank you again!
> 
> http://mycheeze.tumblr.com/post/157544778154/while-reading-lies-fly-around-the-world-i-fell-in
> 
> And the rest of her art, at the same time, here. 
> 
> http://mycheeze.tumblr.com/


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel Agreste's voice rang with irritation, enough though the words seemed benign enough. “Need I truly fear much from a single akuma when Paris' wonder trio is here to protect me?”

Adrien would like to say things were settling down. He however couldn't, because Juuno still had his dead grip on Adrien's lying ability. In all fairness, it only _felt_ like things were settling, because most of the akumas they had battled in the past week had been completely uninvolved strangers. And because Adrien was a terrible person, he felt less drained than when it was someone he knew.

He knelt next to the victim every time regardless, but it didn't hurt as much. And for the most part, he wouldn't have to look at them in the eyes every day at school.

Sometimes, he wanted to blurt out all the things only Paon would know, just so the hurt he saw there would never return. Yeah, as it turned out, he was a bigger threat to his secret identity than Alya.

Which, really, was unfair, considering how much she blogged about Paris' superheroes.

Just today, she had managed to put together a three pages article on the effects of Ladybug's presence in the city on the crime rates. According to her statistics, they were down, and still falling. It was all kinds of inspiring. Where she found the time to think of all that, and then type it intelligibly, he couldn't understand.

 _If I had_ this much _free-time..._

He wasn't going to say he would go on a year-long trip to the tropics with his Princess, but he would totally go on a year-long trip to the tropics with his Princess. He'd sing ' _I can show you the world_ _~_ ' and then do it. It'd be so romantic! And then, once she was swooning in his arms, he would take her to the most beautiful place, they'd eat a candlelight dinner, and then he would go on one knee and ask-

“What are you daydreaming about now, dude?”

He blinked and blushed. He hid the latter by hitting his head on the desk like a normal, tired student. “Vacations. I want one.”

“You're rich. Get one.”

“I also have Father,” he whined, slumping on his desk. Even without Hawk Moth around, there would be no way his dear ol' dad would let him go on a vacation. A teenager only had one shot at being a teenager before they were grown. And so many of them had ungracious teenaged years, he could not squander his unique potential by hiding away from the cameras.

“Ah, good point,” said Nino, because he was a bro that understood the struggle.

For different reasons, but still. Maybe he should take one month away from Ladybug and put one in for Nino. They'd go to Japan, then America, then to wherever the biggest DJ competition would be.

...Shoot, maybe he should take Nath too. Superheroism deserved a reward, and it wouldn't be fair for him to take _one_ of his teammates without the other.

This daydreaming business was a lot more complicated than it ought to be.

“Still, he'll loosen up someday, right?” Nino said, looking up, pensive. “Heck, even if he doesn't, once you hit eighteen, it won't really matter if he disagrees or not.”

Adrien straightened in his seat. That... that was a good point. He hadn't thought of it. It seemed... it seemed almost impossible to imagine. Maybe he had simply figured that he would never get to be independent. That somehow, Father would keep being this looming, impossible large figure in his life.

Could he even live without that?

“What would I even do on my own?”

“You ask me? Well, maybe go into stunt double work. Or bodyguard business. Oooh, I know, doorman. This way, you'll eventually lose that angelic beauty of yours and us mortal will stop getting complexes just by basking in your heavenly glow.”

Alya slapped the back of her idiot boyfriend's head.

“Thank you, Alya.”

“Don't thank me,” she said, crossing her arms with a mock glare. “He doesn't get even half that poetic when he's with me.”

“Yeaaaah,” Adrien sort of conceded. “But with me, he's joking. He takes you one hundred percent seriously.”

Nino's smile was one of gratitude, while Alya pretended she wasn't blushing a little. “What my man said, babe. I'm totally never joking when talking about _your_ heavenly beauty.”

She laughed, leaning on him. “Nice save. Thank your friend. That sunshine child, I swear.”

“I know, right? He's so precious.”

Nino's mouth seemed to catch with his brain just a second too late. His eyes widened, and, right as he turned toward Adrien...

“Your precioussss?” he rasped, a deranged look on his face.

Alya and Nino simultaneously facepalmed.

“Oooh, synchronized!” Adrien chuckled.

Alya glared at her boyfriend. “Nino, your friend is a dork. He impersonated Gollum. That's ten years too late.”

“Hey, he's your friend too!” Nino protested, entirely too defensive for Adrien's liking. Come on. It was funny. Adrien knew it in his bones.

“Maybe, but he was your friend first. It was your sacred mission to educate him on subtle social clues.”

Strangely enough, tension seemed to rise with that comment. Not just purely slapstick fun teasing, but a sliver of actual blame aimed at her boyfriend for some obscure reason. It didn't last too much. Merely until Nino kissed her better, and she forgot whatever she was annoyed about.

Rolling his eyes, Adrien left them to their affectionate bickering. If they couldn't take the heat, he wouldn't burn them. He'd just keep the best ones for his teammates. At least this way, his teammates would know it was funny if he said so.

As he turned around, he caught sight of the empty desks on his right.

The burn mark on his chest throbbed.

Nodding to himself, Adrien pulled out his phone and started typing. “How's it going, Sabrina?”

It took about a minute to get a reply. “ _Good. You were right about Chloé._ ”

“Glad to hear it. You guys have made plans together?”

“ _Yeah, we're going to the_ Champs Élysées. _Chloé saw something good the other day. She waited till I would be there to get it!”_

Adrien ignored the funny feeling in his stomach at that sentence. It wasn't... off, but at the same time... No. He had to at least give Chloé the benefit of the doubt, and Sabrina the right to choose who she associated with.

“Alright, cool. I hope you'll have fun. Text me if there's anything you want to talk about, okay?”

A minute passed. _“Okay. Thank you, Adrien.”_

With a sigh, he let himself fall back into his seat, massaging the back of his head, looking to the ceiling as if it would hold some sort of universal answer. Juuno likely would say something like 'Humans have long since decided that up is the direction of lost thought and hidden answers.' Just, something typically him that had knowledge from the dawn of time, more or less. So different from Plagg, who had seemed more cat-like, lazy and laidback, caring if he felt like it.

Was Marinette's kwami the same? Or a bit more like Juuno? Somehow, he doubted either was the right answer. Marinette didn't need someone like Juuno to tell her how awesome she could be. Ladybug was already so confident. No, maybe her kwami would be more... motherly. Someone gentle to care for the heroine that cared for everyone else.

Adrien stretched a bit further in his seat, his head hanging upside down from his seat's back. The desk behind him was singularly lacking in Marinettes. The absence was a little hole in his heart, letting disappointment ooze out. He did not pout, but he frowned, deep in thoughts.

Things had mostly settled down, hadn't they?

There was no looming fashion competition at his father's company. There weren't sustained misunderstandings about his place as a member of their team. There was...

There was little to stop him.

“Hey, Alya?”

_Don't chicken out. This is your chance. You promised yourself you would, eventually._

“Yes, goldilocks?”

“Would you mind staying a minute after class?”

 

\--

 

Adrien glanced one last time around them to make absolutely one hundred percent sure they were alone, that Nino wasn't spying on them, that there wasn't going to be an akuma jumping out of the woodwork. He was also totally stalling.

Which, considering he was trying it on _Alya,_ was more or less doomed from the start.

“Right, huh, I'm the one that should start talking.” He tried one of his most heart melting smiles, but Alya somehow remained immune. In fact, she looked slightly annoyed by his dilly dallying. “So, I noticed, Marinette wasn't in class today?”

“Nope. That girl probably broke her alarm clock again. I wouldn't worry if I were you.”

Green.

Well, that was an interesting thing to learn about his Princess. Either she was unlucky, or she hated morning and had forgotten her prodigious throwing strength.

“That... that's good to know,” he said slowly.

“Was that all, Adrien?” Alya raised an eyebrow, one hand on her hips. “Could have asked me in class, if that was the case.”

“No! No, see...” He could feel Juuno's hands patting him, silently encouraging him to go through with it. _You're a peacock. Tell the Truth._ “I was hoping... I was hoping you could help me get along with Marinette better! Like, everyday in class, she's just so nervous around me. I know I'm a fashion icon and she's an aspiring designer, but it really sucks that we can't talk because she's so nervous. If we could just spend some time together, I... I bet we'd get along super well.”

Or, if he had not restrained himself at the very last second, _she'd realize how much she loves me._

He didn't want to find out through this. It had to be in person. Some things were too important to relegate to ancient magical powers. Instead, he would delegate to Marinette's best friend.

...Who seemed worryingly silent and still.

The words were quiet, yet full of awe. “You have a crush on her.”

Adrien suddenly had trouble seeing ahead, so bad was his blushing and his blitzing heartbeat, and yet he somehow managed to nod, timidly, twice. _Not like I could lie about it._

Alya's reaction was not quite what he had imagined. Adrien liked to think that he was not a terrible judge of character, especially since having acquired lie-detecting superpowers. But, instead of good-naturedly threatening him not to hurt her girl in any shape or form, Alya...

Alya fell to her knees wheezing, but Adrien's momentary panic vanished as he noticed the wide open smile on her face, and the shaking of her shoulders. Tears soon rolled down her cheeks.

How was he supposed to react to this? “Alya. Why are you laughing? No, better yet, how about you breath before you turn blue?”

“You don't understand...” Positively girlish giggling escaped her control. “Adrien Agreste, you dog! You don't understand at all!”

He stared. “Indeed, I do not.”

“I think you have given me blackmail material for the years to come. Decades from now on, I will be able to use this conversation to exact sweet, sweet control over Marinette. No matter what.”

Well, _somehow_ Alya had managed to sound scarier than Hawk Moth.

“Wait. Blackmail on _Marinette?_ Why would _my_ confession give you blackmail on _her_? Shouldn't it be on me?”

He might as well have spoken to a brick wall.

Alya whipped out her phone, edging dangerously close to pure euphoria. “No, wait, please, let me take a picture for posterity.”

“Okay...?”

To their collective credit, after the flash had subdued, the picture itself was beautiful. Adrien's blush and embarrassment had made his expression more natural than the average picture. And Alya... dear God, Alya was competing for the title of 'sunshine child' with sheer force of happiness.

At the very least, Adrien would be able to argue that his confession had made one person extremely happy. It wasn't the girl he loved, but her best friend counted as far as he was concerned.

“So...?” he trailed off, rubbing the spot on his jacket hiding his brooch.

“You let me do everything, Mr. Agreste. Don't you worry your pretty model head. Give me two days, hell, a week top, and you will have your first date with Marinette. I'll call. See ya!”

And with just one word, every single piece of their interactions clicked together with crystal clarity. Adrien's mind cascaded over the implications with such laser-focus that he completely lost sight of his surroundings.

“Did she say **_DATE?!_ ** ” he shrieked.

A faint laughing noise echoed in the background, but she was already gone. Yup. It was official, Alya could definitely scare him more than Hawk Moth.

Juuno nodded sagely. “Yes, that is exactly the word Alya has used, preceded by 'first'. If you needed more clarification.”

Adrien hung his head low, groaning in despair as he realized there was no stopping the Alya charge once it had started. Well, it was official, he was going to go on a date with Marinette. “That is not what I meant at all...”

“But it is _exactly_ what you wanted. Just a bit earlier than you had planned.”

Adrien resisted for about three seconds under Juuno's knowing gaze. Then, he allowed himself a grin the likes of which outshone the sun. “Yup.”

Two days... A week top. He only had to wait just a little longer...

 

\--

 

Lunchtime was an interesting time on the best of days. Today however, he barely even realized it had begun, even with a disgustingly healthy sandwich in his mouth.

“Hey, Adrien, my bro, my young padawan.”

“What is it, guru Nino?” he replied after swallowing the cress and the mustard.

Nino, for a lack of a better word, preened. “Guess who just got a spot on The Challenge?”

“... Kim.”

Nino's friendly look turned into a burning glare. “I was going to ask for your moral support, but clearly that would be like asking compassion from a rattlesnake.”

“Oh, come on! Nino!” Adrien whined, theatrically reaching for his best friend over their shared table. “My teacher, my man! Can a rattlesnake inspire through their dance moves?”

Smooth as silk, vivacious as the peacock, Adrien glided out of his seat and twirled around the table. Heads turned, including that of his Princess. Who suddenly had a deer in headlights moment. Again.

Alya, smirking, drove her elbow into Marinette's ribs, and the poor girl stopped staring.

Nino didn't.

“I was going to mock you, but dude, since when can you moonwalk?”

Adrien tossed his fringe aside in a pure imitation of a shampoo commercial. The only thing missing were the sparkles. “Natural grace.”

“I hate you,” Nino deadpanned.

“You love me. And it's mutual, my dude,” he said as he plopped down on his seat, deliberately appearing even more picture perfect than usual, one elbow resting on his knee. “So, want my moral support?”

“Oh, why not?” Nino shrugged. “Beggars can't be choosers.”

Adrien's eyes narrowed. “Love you too, dude.”

 

\--

 

The only warning Adrien got that his day was going to turn spectacularly terrible, in the end, was the moment he saw the 'guest star' on the studio's giant TV screen. He was surprised that Alec hadn't been disintegrated by his father's glare. Seriously? They had tricked _Gabriel Agreste_ into appearing on a gameshow? Whilst saying they wanted to interview him?

Nathalie must have been filing a lawsuit this very instant to get the video off the air. Whomever had had the idea to call Adrien's father might have just lost their job.

And, to be perfectly honest, he didn't quite disagree. They'd lied. They had lied and failed to consider what would happen, and Alec had instead turned to the contestant with a smile oozing blue and told him he had lost.

He hadn't even had a _chance_. What. The. Hell?

So, it was no surprise that his legs moved before his head caught up. “Wait, Mister Hypnotist?” he called, and only when the man had turned did he realize he had had no plan. “Just. Huh. Don't feel too bad. I mean, that was pretty close to how my dad reacts to my call, so…”

Which, Adrien wanted it on record, might have been his suckiest attempt at comforting anyone ever.

“Oh,” said the hypnotist, quietly, as if he didn't know what else to say to that. “Thanks? I'm... I'll be going now.”

Adrien cringed. “Right,” he said as he watched the man walk his way out of the studio.

His contemplative silence did not last long however, as a startled yelp flew past his lips when two hands gripped his shoulders and turned him around. Adrien blinked in the face of Nino's stern, frowning stare.

“Dude, tell me that was just you trying to be nice to the guy,” he asked, and there was an edge of _something_ to his voice that wracked Adrien's nerves. “You have to phone your dad? Are you for real? You live in the same house. That is not okay.”

Adrien found himself unable to smile his typical model smile. It just... it just didn't come.

Juuno's little hands began running soothing circles over his chest.

“Yeah, these days, I rarely even come face to face with him. The closest I get to seeing him is through video calls. Or that time I was in the hospital.” Thoughtlessly, he rubbed the back of his head, still failing to smile. “He came that time. In person.”

“Wait, seriously?” his best friend said, but it was not the reassured – or if he were honest, resigned – tone that he had hoped for. The edge had grown, and Nino's voice had risen in pitch. “Seriously?!”

“He's been busy, Nino.” And the ease at which the words came were both a comfort and a pinch of pain in his chest. It was the Truth, nothing but that. It wasn't a kind one however.

He could understand. Adrien was very aware that he was privileged in ways he didn't quite realize most of the time. He never had had to worry about food, about having enough money to go on a school trip with his friends, to be able to wear more than pass-me-down from older siblings. The price to that was his father's continued absence.

Nino, however, _refused_ to see that. With a growl of frustration, he threw both his arms in the air. “No, no, no, it's not an excuse! He could make the time! And if he really _can't_ , then he needs to think back on his priorities!”

The flash of green was another little stab in his heart. One of many.

“ _Look at me, Father. I'm here. I miss her too!”_

He couldn't keep the pretence going in his head if he kept having the Truth shoved in his face.

“He... he made the time. When I was in the hospital...”

“Oh!” Nino threw his arms up in the air. “Oh, well, if your father does the supreme effort of visiting you when you're hospitalized for a freak fainting spell, then he is clearly doing _everything_ right!”

There was green. Luscious, luminescent green, right up until the point Nino had devolved into a bout of biting sarcasm. Then, it was a nauseating, viscous blue.

Adrien's fists shook so hard they hurt. “Shut up...”

He didn't know who he was saying it to. He didn't know if Nino had even heard it, if the words had been more than a breathless _wish_. The pulse of his brooch tingled his skin, right over the burn mark.

A throb of pain.

It showed. Nino's anger suddenly receded and was replaced by a moment's hesitation. “Adrien? You okay, dude?”

The doors of the studio burst open, and the man in the entrance strut in, his face a pale imitation of life, and his clothes a bleeding mix of neon vomit.

“Simon says...”

Adrien's bodyguard charged. Brave, probably protocol, but ultimately, _bad idea_.

The akuma threw a card. The second it touched the Gorilla, the man stopped mid-run and began leaning on his knuckles, like an actual gorilla. Ah, mind control. Chat Noir's favourite.

At least, this time, the source of the akumatization wasn't Chloé. Instead, it was _Father_.

Nino had the shock of a lifetime when he heard Adrien curse under his breath with a width of vocabulary that would make a trucker blush.

“The hell, dude?”

“No time!” Adrien pushed him forth and ran.

 

\--

 

The broadcast had changed _everything_.

– Did it really? Akumas always went after the person that had tormented them.

Why not Alec? Why not the show's producers? Why his Father? Who called a busy CEO under false pretence to trick him into being part of a game show?! –

“Wings out!”

A small part of him worried that Hawk Moth had figured it out. That he had made it personal for the villain with all his taunting and that his father was now in danger of retaliation from a madman. Surely not. If he had, then Marinette and Nathanaël would have been much more tempting targets.

Maybe Hawk Moth had only figured out Paon.

The young superhero paused, crouching over the windowsill, and he let the magic pool around his throat and his mouth. This needed to be glamour-piercing. It probably required more power than usual. It felt as if he might bite his tongue in half if he pushed without having the strength for it.

Or it could be his nerves.

He blurted it all out at once. “Hawk Moth does not know our secret identities.”

And the relief hit. Staggering. Enough that Adrien suddenly had to catch the window's frame with both hands, his lower body dangling in the air. Luckily, he was still on the mansion's property, thus unlikely to be sighted by Alya or some other passerby.

Paon dropped down into the gardens, and jumped his way through the foliage. Within minutes, he had circled the property and arrived right at the entrance. Banging noise made his heart beat faster. A whole crowd of hypnotized people were striking the gates. They were coming for Father.

He rushed inside.

And found Marinette and Nathanaël speaking with his Father and Nathalie.

“Mr. Agreste, you are the target of today's akuma. He seems to have been the hypnotist from that 'Challenge' gameshow. We need to get you to safety as fast as possible.”

“Faster!” he shouted, and every head turned toward him. With a leap, he reached the top of the stairs. “There's a mob at the gates. They're under the akuma's mind control.”

Chat Noir scowled. “Just great.”

Discreetly, Ladybug moved a hand to the middle of Chat Noir's back, gentle. Her gaze however remained firmly on Adrien's father. “Mr. Agreste. Please let us take you somewhere you'll be safe.”

Little emotions flickered behind Gabriel Agreste's spectacles. “No need. My home possesses some of the best security measures in Paris.” He began walking past them. “Nathalie. Engage the security system immediately.”

“Right away, Sir.” And she moved at such a pace one could have thought her to be _running_.

Was it really going to be enough?

“Mr. Agreste,” Paon called, “I really think you ought to be somewhere other than your home during an akuma attack targeting you!”

His father barely slowed down at all. “I do not negotiate with terrorists.” – Shades of blue – “And I strongly suggest you don't get into the habit. It would only encourage potential blackmailers and their ilks to try again.”

“Smart, but that does not change the current situation, Mr. Agreste,” Ladybug tried again, her head turned just so she could glance quickly toward the main doors. Vaguely, screams could be heard over the banging of the metal gates. “They're already, literally, at your doorstep.”

His father's posture straightened, as if he wanted to tower over Ladybug. “I believe I have already stated my opinion on the matter.”

Paon didn't know what came over him at that second. Maybe it was who was saying those words, or to whom they were spoken, but a moment he was near the windows, the second he was shoving a finger at his father's chest.

“Would it hurt you to just shut up and listen for once in your life?! We're not your employees, or your subordinates or your inferiors. This is not some game you can just shut down and micromanage. Akumas don't listen to reason or plea. They just lash out at whatever pissed them off, and in this case, it's _you_!”

Silence fell. A heavy, charged silence, emotions fizzling in the air. Paon could almost see the sparks. But what he _did_ see was the shock in both his teammates' faces, who almost never saw him snap at civilians, and the narrowing of his father's eyes.

Then, fondly, “You remind me of my wife.”

Adrien's heart skipped a beat. Had he... had he just?

The smile on Gabriel Agreste's face floored him. It... it had been _years_ , and Paon could say nothing before the edges of light green surrounding his father. He... he looked happy. “She was passionate, like you. Rather easily angered by differing opinions. As stubborn as me.”

The clearest memories of Mother involved a gentle voice, soft hands touching the top of his head, and the words _“I love you, Sunshine. I'll be back soon.”_

They'd been a promise.

She'd never returned. And all he had to show for it were memorial pictures and a few memories of her ruffling his hair. He didn't remember his mother being stubborn. But, but here was his Father, mentioning it casually. To strangers.

Paon's eyes flew to the collection of his own pictures. Most of them were of him smiling, and in that split second, Adrien had to wonder how he had even managed to.

“Paon is right, sir,” Chat Noir chided in. “It'd be smarter and a lot easier if you just hid somewhere not obvious.”

Gabriel Agreste's voice rang with irritation, enough though the words seemed benign enough. “Need I truly fear much from a single akuma when Paris' wonder trio is here to protect me?”

“Yes, we're three, but the villain this time can hypnotize people. Do you want to see what happens if Ladybug turns against you? I don't!”

“Oh, really?” It sounded like a question, but a part of Paon fought his instinct to apologize on the spot. Gone was the unexpected reminiscence. In its stead, a cold in his father's eyes that was so familiar... “You've flaunted your oh so perfect knowledge of what is true and what is false. Well then, answer me this: 'Will I be harmed during this attack?'”

For a split second, Paon wanted to stay silent. To resist the order of his father. To convince him entirely on the simple logic of an akuma attack being _dangerous_ and beyond his control. But he let the words come out. “You'll be fine if you don't disobey Ladybug's orders.”

The words seemed to cast some measure of calm upon his father, and to his dismay, Chat Noir too. Ladybug, on the other hand, had pinched her lips.

As his father turned, closing the argument like he was so often to do, Adrien felt the frustration surge through. He couldn't let it end there. Not with the soft pulse of Juuno's miraculous warning him.

“Read between the lines, Mr. Agreste,” Paon spat, trying to hide the knot of fear tying his insides. “I said _if you don't disobey her orders_ . Which means that if you do, you _will_ be harmed. That's the Truth here. Would you like to know _how badly_ you will be hurt? How intense will be the pain?! Because that is also something I can tell you!”

They stared.

“Hm, there is a safe room in my office, I shall converge there with Nathalie and my son.”

Father wasn't afraid.

Oh, no, he was beneath that. Beneath all those pesky little emotions. Behind his spectacles, his gaze was naught but ice and a spark of intelligence calculating. Something so typically _him_ that Adrien pushed through the persona of Paon for a split second.

That was as good as they were going to get.

“Stay... stay safe,” he whispered, and left to secure the perimeter before he could tell if his father had heard him.

Only a minute later did it occur to him that his father had said Nathalie would go fetch _him_.

Another curse flew past his lips. This was really turning into a delicate situation. With a glance to the hypnotized people banging on the gates, he dove behind the trees near the walls. Once hidden from view, he ran around the property, stopping short of his bedroom. Right, good thing he had left the bathroom's window open.

The number of times he was going through this small, high on the wall window should perhaps be a cause for concerns. Right now though? He was just trying to fit through without making too much noise. Then, he heard footsteps coming from within his room.

“Wings in,” he whispered as he touched the floor.

The doorknob turned just as the last sparks of turquoise light faded away.

“A minute, please!” he called out, opening his jacket for Juuno to hide inside.

“Adrien, there is no time,” came Nathalie's slightly muffled voice. “Your father has decided to take you to the safe room in his office.”

“Wow, really?” he asked in a very shocked voice.

The twisting of the knob paused. That was _very bad_. Moving before he could think, Adrien unlocked the door and threw it open.

“Hey, Nathaliiiiie... Safe room, huh? We have one of these?” He put on his model smile for good measure. Which was truly the stupidest way to hide from the woman who saw him do that in front of the camera _every other day_. “Haha, that's awesome...”

She did not call him out on this, thank goodness, but she let out a rare sigh of pure exasperation that made him feel just as bad. Really, there was no defence he could put up that wouldn't involve lying through his teeth, and even Juuno's exception had its limits. So, no, he did not fight at all when Nathalie dragged him inside his father's office.

A distressingly people-free office.

“Wait. Where's Father?”

This was the whole reason he had detransformed: to convince his Father that they could wait out the akuma together.

The slightest wrinkle of skin on her forehead proved this wasn't expected for her either. “Still talking with Ladybug, I presume.”

Green. Which made him instinctively want to relax, but a sort of premonition was crawling down his spine. He had had enough run-ins with people's lies and truths that he noticed the little details now. Like the fact that they could be desperately calling out to each other as the akumas' mind slaves swarmed Adrien's home.

Adrien's fingers brushed the ems of his jacket. If Nathalie wasn't there...

Except she was. Staring at him. One arm extended toward a half open steel door.

Biting his lips, one last glance toward the entrance of his father's office, he made his way through the steel door.

A spiralling staircase awaited them. Without waiting for Nathalie's prompting, he began climbing his way up, only stopping when he heard the whistling of air around the door closing.

Nathalie met his glare easily. “Do you believe your father unable to open the door to his own saferoom?”

Fair. And harder to argue against when green sparked around her general person. His teeth almost pierced the skin of his lips. Damn it. Father was out there! He was only supposed to be held back so there wouldn't be a big fuss made around a non-issue!

With those thoughts in mind, he arrived at the end of the staircase, where a large stone tile embedded in the ceiling served as another obstacle on the way.

“Mr. Agreste should have mentioned this to me earlier,” Nathalie said, just a touch of irritation in her voice. It morphed into resignation in the span of one heartbeat. “Step aside, Adrien, I'll take care of this.”

“No need,” Adrien replied with a grin.

He had a touch of the peacock's strength, even without using the miraculous. After all, he kept seeing people's lies despite still being regular Adrien. He certainly wasn't complaining. Kim had eaten his words after that arm wrestling contest... and Marinette had looked a bit _too_ impressed.

Nathalie's reaction was far more subdued.

“Hm,” she said, contemplating the stone trapdoor whilst Adrien set it back into place. “Your physical training has born fruit.”

“Didn't it?”

Flipping his hair, grinning, Adrien flexed and kissed his muscle. It was so picture perfect, he actually regretted not being photographed for once. Of course, if Father had been there, he would have called it disgraceful, an insult on his talent as a model. Nathalie merely hid her mouth behind her tablet, her shoulders suspiciously shaking.

As he settled down however, Adrien took in the sight of the saferoom.

He... he wouldn't have called it that. To him, the word called out an image of a small, bunker-like structure, with artificial lighting and cans of dried food on shelves. Not a dome like one that could be found within a cathedral, not the dusty, heavy air of an attic chock full of memories. Not the brilliant afternoon light, filtering through a mosaic windows larger than a car.

“I've been here before...”

“Indeed, Adrien.”

He jumped at the sound of Nathalie's voice behind him.

“It was used as a storage room by your father and, especially, by your mother. She loved to take you up to that window and make you look at Paris. Your father decided to give it a new purpose once it became clear your mother...” – her gaze grew softer – “well, likely wouldn't return.”

Adrien blinked, then turned back to the room. A storage room... If... if he thought back on it, if he filled in the empty space with boxes and old, _colourful_ pieces of clothing, then...

He stretched out a hand, and for a second, felt a tingle at the tip of his fingers, like he had touched a beautiful violet boa. Father had used this place as a storage room. Yes, he remembered now! He remembered coming here to play with the creations that had failed to take off, the old work that Father had made but refused to destroy. Maybe, one day, the world would be ready. Or so his father said in a rare display of petulance.

And what a gaming room it made! Adrien grinned. It was a veritable treasure room, back then. And he'd...

“ _Mommy?”_

The figure in his memories had turned, her hands putting down a heavy, ancient book, a tender smile breaking onto her face. “ _Sunshine?_ ”

“ _What are you doing, Mommy?_ ”

The smile had grown more playful, as she had placed both hands on her hips and knelt in front of him. “ _No, what are_ you _doing, Sunshine?_ ” She'd gently swat the tip of his nose, then lifted the much-too-large-hat off his head. _“Playful with your father's stuff, huh? Well, I won't tell, but only if you give me something special.”_

So young and naive, he'd really thought she would tell on him. “ _Anything, Mommy!_ ”

But he'd realized it, when she had pointed a finger to her cheek. With a squeal of joy, he'd thrown himself at her and landed a big kiss right at the designated spot.

Adrien's smile shrunk. How this room had grown barren in the years since then. Sad. Empty. The only features of the room but the shapes of the window frames on the floor. Twirls and curls meeting in an elaborate mosaic.

“A new purpose?” he said, his voice unsteady.

“A panic room, Adrien,” Nathalie repeated with some emphasis.

 _Oh, right. There is an akuma around._ It wasn't the time to be lost in old memories.

But he had complete faith in Ladybug and Chat Noir. They could – and _had –_ taken care of akumas without him before. It wasn't anything unusual.

Though the reason was normally that he hadn't reached them in time to help. Today, they had seen him hanging around.

“Where's Father? Why isn't he here already?”

The sounds of nails clicking against a tablet's screen slowed. Nathalie's head raised just a inch. “Your Father will come in a few minutes, I imagine. He was still talking to Ladybug and Chat Noir whilst I was around. And Paon had gone outside.”

Except Paon hadn't _stayed_ out.

“Can... can you please go check?” Then, before even letting her time to protest, he added, “Or, heck, let me check it out myself!”

“Yes, Adrien, I will let you out of the safe room to go check after your father who is the current akuma's target, while I stay here and do nothing,” she deadpanned, with such an exasperated look that Adrien cringed. Then, for good measure, “I will also keep my job after that stunt.”

Adrien bit his lips. Okay, plan B: subtly test what was the truth without making Nathalie suspicious. But he didn't even make it to formulating the first sentence. Nathalie sighed, her shoulders sagging and a look of disbelief on her face. Like she couldn't believe what thought had crossed her mind.

“I will go check. Stay here.”

And, as soon as the trapdoor closed behind her...

“Juuno?”

“He's been captured,” said his kwami. “He is in danger.”

Adrien swore.

He was doing that a lot today. More than he used to, certainly.

With a running sprint, Adrien cried out, “Wings Out!” and leaped to the window. Why had he even listened to his father?

It was only in midair that his own question truly hit him, and his landing became a precarious thing. His boots skidded across the tiles, and his arms flailed to keep a sense of balance while screeches echoed within the confines of his mind. He had indulged his father's plan because if Adrien Agreste couldn't be found in his room, like he was meant to be, then Gabriel Agreste would refuse to hide.

“ _You'll be fine if you don't disobey Ladybug's orders.”_

Ladybug had suggested that his father leave the mansion.

 

\--

 

He reunited with them in the studio, and their reaction to his arrival contained both relief and annoyance, exemplified by Chat's “What did you disappear for, you overgrown chicken?”

“Failed attempt at protecting Gabriel Agreste,” he bit out, and pretended not to flinch as his own powers pointed out his inadequacy.

He also pretended not to see the guilty look on Chat Noir's face for his question. So many more important things to care about right now!

Like his father, and the surreal sight of him skipping around, flapping his arms like a butterfly or a bird.

For a split second, Adrien's brain short-circuited. Even his dreams didn't get that bizarre.

But freezing in an akuma fight was always a mistake. “Simonsays...” began the akuma with a sharp smile, “you are a plane! Why don't you take off? Go to the roof, then jump.”

Paon's blood ran cold.

The Gorilla tackled him to the ground.

 _NononononononoNO!_ He reached forward, his eyes fixated on the figure of his father disappearing through the backdoor of the studio. Ladybug and Chat Noir were screaming, bantering with the akuma, he couldn't tell anymore, and the weight on his back was _large_ , enough that crawling was completely useless.

Instead, he _pushed_ onto the ground and stood so fast the Gorilla fell backward, unable to grasp at him in time.

Then, he jumped, right past the akuma and his teammates. This time... this time, he _couldn't._ They had already lost too much time.

“Paon, wait!” Ladybug shouted.

“You two will be fine!” he threw over his shoulder.

And, God, he didn't want to know what he would have done if his answer had been different.

 _More terrible..._ rang Juuno's warning to his ears. Again, and again.

Fire started pumping through his veins, all of the repressed rage was coming through, mixed in with fear. Sweat was running down the back of his neck, till it seeped into his scarf.

The hallways were empty.

Which way had he gone?

“Father is... in the stairwell, near the top.”

Already?!

He rushed out as fast as his powers allowed him to, his surroundings blurring, and he broke into the stairwell with a thunderous clang of metal against the wall. Faintly, he could pick up the imitation of motor noise. Looking up, he saw a line of white at the very top, moving, then disappearing.

His father.

Running, arms spread wide like a childish airplane. Gallivanting toward the edge of the roof.

Two leaps brought Paon to the top of the stairwell, and he bolted through the door, opening himself to the elements without a care for the world.

His father was there. Right there.

Standing on the edge.

And then he was trapped by Paon's arms, the ridiculous motor noise he was making cut by a surprised snort. Paon pulled him right until there were in the dead center of the roof.

His hands were shaking. He hadn't realized. He hadn't a moment to focus the ice-cold fear into rational thoughts, everything was buried beneath a chant of relief 'father is safe father is safe father is safe'.

His father jerked up. With surprising strength, he pushed back enough to get Paon almost off-balance. Almost, but Paon managed – just barely – to pine him down.

Cracks through his heart spread. Crackles. Splinters of glass.

“Stop!” He pulled back his father's collar. “Stop, Father! Please, stop!”

He shouted. He shouted himself hoarse, then kept going. Minutes, hours, he could not tell. He could only feel the push of his father's body as it tries to reach the sky and – jump – fly. He was stronger. So much stronger than any regular person. They checked. All three of them, they tested themselves on one memorable patrol, and they could do feat beyond even the strongmen in the largest competitions.

But every time his father pushed, Adrien was filled with a sensation of weakness that clawed furiously at his insides. Every time, he was thinking his strength would fail him, his father would break free, and – fly – jump.

“Stop,” he kept yelling, and kept hearing the childish, motor-like noise. “Stop!”

Crash. Break. Die.

Another pull.

“STOP! FATHER, STOP!”

Die.

With a cry of rage and terror, he pulled on so hard that his father went flying back, surprise briefly flashing on his face. The impact of the man against the rooftop didn't break the spell, but it seemed to make his hypnotized father pause.

Paon refused to waste this chance. He pounced. He landed on top of his father before the man could stand, and pinned him to the ground. Even then, his father's arms were spread wide, and he kept making the motor noise. He kept at it. If he had the chance, he _would_ jump.

And Adrien couldn't hold the words in anymore. “I know. I know this isn't you. That you think this is a disgraceful thing to do. You would never. Never. But Father, I don't want to see you try to jump again. So, please, please...” He lowered himself, his mouth near the collar of his father's suit, his eyes focused on the cement beneath them both. He whispered, “don't. Don't get up. Just wait. Just wait for Ladybug and Chat Noir to save you. I just want you safe, Father... I...”

He couldn't say it. He hadn't the strength.

“Stay down.”

By the time the Restoration spell bathed them both in light, Paon Bleu could barely speak. By the time Ladybug and Chat Noir had gotten to the roof, he was long gone.

 

\--

 

His knees hit the perfectly shiny marble floor of his bathroom just as the nausea and the dizziness hit him in full. That had almost... The akuma had almost... They had come close before. He was no fool, and Paon Bleu had a duty to keep his eyes open. Sometimes, the fighting would get within a hair's breadth of getting someone killed. Sometimes, one of them would let an opportunity to win go, because they had to dive and push a civilian out of the way.

He'd punched a lion in the face for much the same reason. Priorities.

But he had never... Father...

Adrien dry heaved into his toilet, clutching to its sides with white knuckles. The knowledge of what he had just prevented was like a set of hooks pulling at his throat. If he had stayed... if he had listened to Ladybug's plea... would he be an orphan by now?

He heaved again.

No. No, he couldn't think like that! The possibilities were just that: possibilities. Nothing more. And that had been averted. He needed not worry. Ladybug's decision had been the right one, anyway. Stopping the akuma broke the spell. It had been right.

He would repeat it till he believed it.

“Father's safe, that's all that matters now,” he whispered between two bouts of dry heaving.

Minutes had gone by when he first noticed the soft humming filling his ears and the gentle touch brushing his hair.

“Juuno... ” he croaked miserably, begging.

The humming didn't stop.

With unsteady steps, Adrien hauled himself to his feet, holding onto his bathroom's counter for balance. A quick glance in the mirror showed he looked as ill as he felt. Pale, hair dishevelled despite Juuno's efforts, a thin trail of saliva dripping down from the corner of his mouth. Cold water ran from the faucets, by his own design? Or Juuno's?

He did not know, but he splashed his face all the same, letting the cold wash off the feeling of illness sticking to his skin.

“Juuno,” he called again.

Cold water. Splashes in the sink.

“I'm here. Take it slowly, Adrien,” Juuno gently said. “You have had a nasty shock with this akuma. Don't try to overexert yourself now.”

His fingers felt numb under the trickle of cool water. “Hawk Moth almost had my father killed.”

“I know, Adrien. I know.”

Whatever comfort was meant to be found in that, Adrien could not grasp.

“Juuno...” The words were like slivers of ice. “How do peacocks break people?”

The kwami looked away. Adrien moved a little closer.

“Juuno, what is his name? His real name?”

“I will not answer that.”

He was looming over his kwami, his shadow cast over the shades of his eyes. All he could think of was the sensation of his father's collar against his palm, the push against his hands and knees, the wordless begging to _obey_.

“Why?” The word was croaked, rasp.

“I will not answer that either, Adrien.” Juuno turned, as if he were going to fly away.

Adrien's hands stopped that.

“Tell me,” he intoned.

Juuno shook his head.

The amber of anger kindled within his chest. Was that how they were going to play it? “I'll get Ladybug to ask me.”

“I won't let you answer.”

He took a deep breath, focused the magic within. “Hawk Moth's civilian identity is–”

He choked. Not as one more sob. He choked because the tingle of magic inside his mouth had flared into a strange numbness. His tongue refused to move. It wasn't a lie. He did not even have the chance to.

Juuno's eyes glinted with a harsher shade of green.

Adrien's chest burned with a new sensation. An old one. Something hot and angry, and wounded, bleeding. His breath itched. How? came the mental cry. How could Juuno do this?

“Why.... why are you protecting him, Juuno?”

Didn't his kwami at least owe him that? Couldn't he tell him why he'd decided to stab him in the back?!

“He is the last person I wish to protect.”

And Adrien felt his thought come into focus. The kwami only ever told the Truth. The rage sweeping through Adrien might be the same his partner was going through. And he faced both his own and his chosen's. He stood there, held within a shaking grasp, and...

Juuno could phase through his fingers. Adrien knew he could. He'd seen it many times before. Why wasn't he phasing?

Why did he stay there?

Why did he... why did he stay?

“He could have died,” he choked, and it was a weak, mewling whine. Fragile, breaking. “Juuno, Father almost died today.”

For the second time, Adrien fell to his knees, all strength sapped away, and he let his hands hang from his sides limply. Father could have died. Juuno could have left. Everyone and everything else seemed to be slipping through. He could lose it all. He almost did already, and... and there was nothing he could do about it.

It wasn't _fair!_

“I know.” Juuno's touch was soft, catching the first tear rolling on Adrien's cheeks. “Oh, my sweet little chick, I know, but he didn't.”

“He...” Adrien's babbling failed through his sobs. “He, Juuno... he was... right there, in my arms... he was _trying_...”

Juuno's eyes grew wet with tears, and below, a hint of a smile, proud and gentle. “You stopped that, Adrien. You saved him.”

“If I hadn't...”

“You _did_.” Juuno insisted, firmer, with that rumble of power that speaks of the peacock's aspect. Truth. Adrien's actions had saved his father' life. He could have chosen to stay. Maybe they would have been fast enough to defeat Simonsays before there was ever any threat. Maybe not.

But he had chosen to go, and for that, his father was still alive.

Peacocks did not focus on what was not. Only what _was_.

“Father's alive,” he said, pulling his kwami into a hug. “You're right. I saved him. I'm sorry.”

Juuno pulled back and cooed, his smile sad. “My poor chick. I don't need you to apologize. Remember, always remember, you're only human. And it is a wonderful thing. Love. Love with all your heart and never be ashamed of that. Rather, it is my turn to offer an apology. I won't say anymore on Hawk Moth. I know it hurts you, but I still won't budge on this.”

“I trust you, Juuno.” If Father could photograph the look on Adrien's face right then, he would never need to model again. It would put every other picture ever produced to shame. “If you won't tell me, then I believe there is a good reason. I trust you with my life.”

“ _What do you call that if not love?”_

Little blue blob-like arms rubbed the skin under his eyes, but for once, they would have been better served drying Juuno's own tears.

 

\--

 

His bed creaked when he finally sat down, a sigh out of his lungs as soon as he did. Juuno had taken off for a few minutes – _“You need a moment on your own”_ – and now Adrien was alone with his treacherous thoughts.

With the tip of his thumb alone, he rubbed the uppermost gem on his brooch. It had long since cooled down, but Adrien could not forget the occasional throbs of pain from his burn mark. The Truth could hurt. And this one, this one Adrien couldn't quite bring himself to say.

And he had tried.

Juuno might have had his reasons, but so did Adrien. Hawk Moth... Hawk Moth had nearly gotten his father killed. That wouldn't go away. He couldn't forget. He wouldn't be surprised if he had nightmares about this akuma tonight. So he had tried the obvious thing.

State who Hawk Moth's identity was. Juuno, however, had made good on his promise, even when he wasn't around. Perhaps there was someone else he could ask while he was Paon? Though, honestly, he would be surprised if that worked.

Adrien's heart threatened to burst out as the door to his bedroom creaked open. Faster than even Paon would have been, Adrien shoved the brooch back into his jacket and stood up.

It wasn't Nathalie.

It was Father.

A strange feeling of dread crawled up on Adrien's spine. It wasn't the normal nervousness of meeting and talking to his father. To see him there, standing in the doorway, it was almost a surreal experience in itself. But this, this was a sizzling pressure at the back of his mind, and his sight being like that of the peacock.

Gabriel Agreste advanced, a seething mass of writhing blue near as dark as black under his pristine suit.

Adrien's first instinct was to run and perhaps puke his guts, his second was to tear off the Peacock miraculous from the inside of his clothing and hurl it through the window. Father was alive. Father hadn't actually jumped from the top of a TV Studio. That was the thing that mattered. The only one. In that one burning moment, Adrien chose not to care about any of the rest. He wasn't looking at his father's flaws, only at him.

“I'm…” Adrien started, but choked up. “I'm so glad Ladybug stopped Simonsays in time.” _That I came running to the roof._

“So am I, Adrien,” Gabriel replied with a rueful smile.

It was a speck of green. Just a spark before it fizzled into nothing, but it was _true,_ and Adrien had to cling to that. Humour. Smiles. More than he had seen in nearly a year now.

“I couldn't take it if I lost you, Father. Not after Mom.”

“I know, I know,” was murmured in his ears, one hand brushing his locks. “It's fine, son. They may be a young, emotional bunch of teenagers, but Paris has good superheroes.”

Adrien almost started snickering. Of course, his father would think that of Ladybug and sidekicks. But the flash of green was just cherry on top. So what? They were teenagers. Hormones and all that nice cocktail of changes. They were allowed to be hot messes all the time, so long as they saved the day with style.

His father's back suddenly straightened.

“Do you have something in your jacket?”

Adrien blinked. Pulling back, he looked into his father's eyes. His hand lingered over the spot he hid his miraculous.

“Yeah, why?”

His Father spoke in a slow, troubled tone, “I never noticed it before. That is all.”

A bubble popped in Adrien's chest, and the elation of his father's safety receded. He couldn't keep some of the heat from his voice. _How could you have?!_ “Are you worried that it's going to stretch the fabric? Or that it'll show in one of my pictures? Don't worry. I know how to take care of that stuff. It's one of the few things you ever taught me.”

He was surprised to see no anger flash upon his father's features. No, what pooled in the depths of his father's eyes then was a sadder sort. A nostalgia. A feeling of regret.“Yes. I suppose you are perfectly equipped to deal with this. I will leave you to yourself, son. I believe you don't have a photo shoot scheduled until Thursday. Rest well until then. We would not want you feeling faint again.”

“Father...” His voice cracked, rasp, tired, and his father did pause. Maybe to chastise him about such an ungraceful sound, but Adrien was near tears again and he... he couldn't... “Stay. Please.”

“I can't, Adrien,” spoken with no hesitation whatsoever. “The akuma attack has dreadfully delayed many important deals. I must fix everything as soon as possible.”

Not even a bit of regret. More like a fact than an answer in any way.

And suddenly, Adrien was back to being a little boy, waiting in front of the door to his father's office. Waiting and staring at that big, dark door, knowing that any minute now, his father would answer the knocking and _look_.

Every time. Every single time he tried to connect with his father, it went wrong. He had been so sure this time that they could talk. Maybe being in danger would bring some perspective to it all. Father had come _rushing_ when he thought that Adrien had been gravely injured after all.

So why couldn't his father stomach being in his presence more than a few minutes? What did he do wrong?!

 

\--

 

Another day, another akuma. Though, in this case, Ladybug was the one to show up late. The actual reason, he didn't know, but he _had_ spotted Marinette running around Chloé's hotel whilst wearing a motorbike helmet.

She hadn't even needed his help, honestly.

But he had made quick work of Princess Flagrance. Brainwasher enemies sucked. Chat Noir had said it best. Except, this time, Paon Bleu had needed a good reminder in the end that this was one of their classmates and that he couldn't just pass off his growing frustration on them.

Though, to be honest, Nathanaël _singing_ Cataclysm was pretty dang funny.

You had to take the good where you found it. Or make it yourself.

It had been half an impulse-purchase, and half something he had planned for a while now. Right down to the part where he asked Juuno about Nathalie's schedule. On that level, his kwami was more accurate than any agenda. Sure, it cost him a few more blueberry treats than usual, but bribes were bribes.

Nathalie would be proud.

Not that he had any actual knowledge of this. But... well, he was not _that_ naive about certain aspects of the life of a businessman.

The point, regardless, was the knowing smile of his gorilla-slash-driver as he led Adrien and a mildly concerned Nathalie toward the parlour Adrien had seen on the Internet.

 _La Tortue de Guérison_.

A small, locally-owned shop. A red facade, gold paint on the signs and the doors, symbols and wild waves. And of course, the turtle symbol.

“Alright, Nathalie, we're here!”

“Here?” she asked, clearly prompting him.

Adrien grinned, and pointed a hand right toward the parlour's sign. “They do massages. And it's got really great review! Tense backs, overworked muscles, sore necks, everything. The owner is apparently an acupuncture master from China. You come out of this place, and I quote 'as fresh as mint popsicles in a snowman's mouth'.”

After a second, Nathalie tilted her head slightly. Then, bemused, wondered, “I wasn't aware you felt the need for more physiotherapy, Adrien.”

This was one of those moments where he knew somewhere he would have had the Black Cat's miraculous in another life, because he was feeling like the cat that ate the canary. And then some.

“Me? Nooooo,” he said, innocent as the chick out of the egg, “but you? I think you could use a day without so much _stress_. Or at least two hours, that's what they said on the brochure. And worry not,” he added like a boy scout, “I cleared it all with Father beforehand.”

“That is very kind, Adrien.” Her eyes were wider as she looked him over, showing so much more of her feelings in that one moment. “I... I am touched.”

A light blush covered his face despite his grin. “I figured I give you enough troubles, and you don't get enough appreciation for how much work you do for my father, and me. So, I decided to repay you. It's not much, but it seemed something you could appreciate.”

“I do, Adrien.” She smiled a timid, slanted smile as if she had almost forgotten how, but it only made his blush wilder. “Thank you.”

And, after a flinch of hesitation, her fingers ran through his hair.

Her hand was softer than he had imagined, warmer too. It... it reminded him of others, of a light voice and a hair as blonde as his. But Nathalie had never been one for physical contact. She pulled back soon enough, and only its lingering warmth remained to remind Adrien of the past.

When this was the standard rather than the exception.

Against his skin, his miraculous jolted. By some miracle, he didn't react besides a slight movement of his eyes, and that could easily be explained as just avoiding eye contact during a – not – awkward moment.

“W-well, right, anyway, here's the voucher,” he said, pulling out a slip of paper from his pockets. “I already put it down in your name, so you can just waltz in and--”

The entry bell's ringing cut him off.

Well, not quite. The sight of the teenager leaving through the front door did.

“Marinette?”

The teenaged girl jumped at least two feet in the air, squawking with an endearing lack of grace. The look of shock and horror written all over her face was comedy gold. And though Adrien knew he should never laugh at his Princess, he still chuckled a bit, seeing her turn beet red at being caught red-handed.

“Adrien?! W-what are you doing here?!”

“I bought Nathalie a massage.” He pointed to said adult just behind him. “I guess I'm not the only one in our school to know about this place, huh? So, how are the massages here?”

And, though Adrien noticed, he had no idea what to make of the sheer _relief_ written all over her face. “Oh, oh, ah, well, huh, you know? They're great. Very traditional. Very...” Her eyes darted around and settled on the ornamented decorations around them. “...very Chinese.”

She turned blue.

... _Well,_ _I hope Nathalie will still like it_ , he thought, more than a little put off by Marinette's less-than-glowing review.

He could just hear Nathalie's eyebrows rising to form her famous sceptical stare.

His best model smile plastered on his face, he gave Marinette an appraising look. “You know. Massages are a good idea for you. I bet that they would help you be a little less wound-up all the time.”

... There must have been something wrong with what he said, because both Marinette and Nathalie blinked and stared with their mouths opened just a little too wide.

“At school?” he tried, feeling his face heat up slightly. “You know? I noticed you were tensed a lot at school, and” – he chuckled, rubbed the back of his head – “sure, the exams suck, and no one wants Mrs. Mendeleiev on their backs, but sometimes you sit up so straight it's like someone injected a steel beam in your spine.”

He could feel Juuno's breath tickling his chest, repeatedly. As if his kwami was laughing.

“A... steel beam?” Marinette repeated, the signs of her previous nervousness all gone in favour of a mildly offended look.

Alarm bells rang in his head. Oops. “N-not that there's anything wrong with that!” _Because it's feelings, and feelings should not be repressed. They're your feelings. “_ I was just thinking you could use a good massage, get rid of any tense knots in your muscles.”

The corners of her mouth twitched. It was almost a Ladybug smirk of confidence. Almost. But there was also the teasing ease just twinkling in her eyes, the one she got when Paon said something endearing. “Right. That is good advice, Adrien. Which is why, I am coming out of a massage parlour.” She gestured to the shop's ensign.

Adrien's imagination provided him with a vivid image of his Princess laying on her stomach, her naked back to him, a small content smile on her lips. And because he was apparently a not-so-gentlemanly guy, the next image was of him, putting some massage oil on his hands and on her back.

This time, the blood in his body did not divert _purely_ to his face. Adrien's back straightened as panic settled in. Nope. Not here. Not in front of his Princess and _Nathalie_. He would die of embarrassment.

_Think of Chloé, with lots and lots of makeup, and whining, and kicking a puppy._

Luckily, thoughts of his childhood friend and sort-of sisterly figure did the trick.

As he was blinking away the last of it however, Marinette's handbag suddenly twitched against her sides. Marinette's amused expression stayed on, but with wisps of blue floating by. With a friendly grin, she began to step aside, waving. “Well, Adrien, it was good to see you, but I have to go now. I'll see you at school.”

“See you,” he said as he watched her leave.

“Another 'friendly' admirer, Adrien? Has she come to you with a poster?” Nathalie asked with a knowing voice.

He wished! “Nah, she's not another one of my fangirls. That's my classmate, Marinette, and a great friend.”

Nathalie and the Gorilla exchanged a very 'we're-adults-and-every-kid-around-us-is-stupid' look. Then, her red lips pulled together into a somehow amused neutral expression, she arched one eyebrow.

“If you say so, Adrien.”

“Alright, Nathalie, shush now.” He pushed her inside. “Time for you to stop overthinking _everything_ , especially _irrelevant_ stuff. And relax! Everything's already paid for! I'm gonna wait outside with the Gorilla, probably at a café!”

As he closed the door on Nathalie, Adrien felt something jolt in his pocket, and kept a straight face for his bodyguard. He waited for the enormous muscled man to turn, and he leaned into his collar to whisper.

“Juuno, why did you facepalm?”

The kwami gave him a look.

“Yeah, yeah,” Adrien trailed off.

_Hurry up, Alya._


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lila had met Jagged Stone and inspired one of his songs. Lila had talked to Spielberg and could put in a good word with someone else. Lila had become good friend with Ladybug. Lila had once woken up late and willed time to rewind itself so she would not be late retroactively.

Sometimes, it depressed him to think how often people lied, but in a school full of teenagers? It was inevitable. Adrien didn't even flinch anymore when Juuno's powers flared to life and he saw someone turn a shade of sickeningly dark blue. He took it as a fact of life. Lies would fly around the world and return home faster than the truth could get its make-up on.

Amongst the so few things that bothered him about his Princess was seeing her burst in a class just a minute after the bell had rung and spill a story and turn blue.

Well, he understood why she did it. Ladybug's duties were never done. And even he could lie about his secret identity.

Today… today was different though. He had arrived to the school buzzing with the usual crowd noise, but with a major difference. Everywhere he looked, people with excited smile would shine dark blue in his eyes, all the while explaining some rumours or another.

The only common point between those stories? A name. Lila.

Lila had met Jagged Stone and inspired one of his songs. Lila had talked to Spielberg and could put in a good word with someone else. Lila had become good friend with Ladybug. Lila had once woken up late and willed time to rewind itself so she would not be late retroactively.

Okay, he made up that last one, but he wouldn't be surprised if he heard it before the end of the day.

The only flash of green light he caught all morning was the line about the new transfer student being the daughter of two travelling diplomats.

Great. So, either a chronic liar, or everyone in the rumour mill was way too excited this morning and had chosen to practice their creativity. And if it was the latter, he'd like it for them to tone it down. His Paon senses was going haywire with all that interference.

“Juuno,” he whispered into his collar, “is there any way to turn it off? I feel like I'm going to start correcting everyone about  _ everything _ .”

“Sorry, Adrien.” His kwami shrugged. “Even if you lost contact with your miraculous, you'd still see lies and truth at this point.”

Adrien forced himself not to react and reach for his locker as always. As he swung the door open though, he used the opportunity to lean in far enough no one would notice his lips moving. “Wait, really? How does that work?”

Juuno's blob-like hands patted his skin gently. “Our bond is strong enough, little chick.”

Warmth bubbled up near his heart. It was, wasn't it? Without even thinking about it, Adrien retrieved one of the blueberry snacks he hid in his locker, and slid it into his jacket's pocket. The cooing began immediately.

Chuckling, Adrien let himself drift his way to his morning class, taking little notice of the lies spreading across the student body. Really, it would surely die down on its own in a week or two. That was how long the gossips had initially lasted for him, and he was a Parisian celebrity to begin with.

“Morning, Nino,” he said as he slid into his seat.

“Dude!” Nino lit up, an excited smile on his face. “Have you heard about the new student?”

Well, there went his resolve to ignore this mess.

“Lila?” he asked, hoping that by some ungodly coincidence there might be  _ another _ transfer student this morning.

A vain hope, it turned out, as Nino immediately nodded, jotting down notes in his planner. Okay, if there was anything more suspicious than that, Adrien would guess it was someone in a trench coat staring at unsupervised children in a park. Nino never voluntarily opened his planner. He had a physical aversion for it!... It wasn't because of their test this week, was it?

“Right on. She told me about that time she met Spielberg during one of her parents' trips. Spielberg Adrien! Can you imagine if she could hook me up with him? Like, maybe just a five or ten minutes videocall, just that. And I'd be able to ask him what it was like when he was just starting. Or maybe how he convinced executives to give him his first movie budget. Oh, man, there's just so much  _ stuff _ I could learn from that guy. Think he'd give me an internship if I showed him some good footage?”

Adrien took a deep, calming breath.  _ That _ was a sharp reminder of why it discouraged him to hear so many lies on a daily basis. At some point, they'd be uncovered, and someone would be in pieces.

And in this particular case, the  _ someone _ in question was his best friend.

“Nino, I really doubt Lila met all the people she did.”

Nino's brows lowered, confusion tinting in his gaze. “What do you mean? Why would she that otherwise?”

Adrien glanced at the rest of their classmates, who were all having conversations about the exact same person. Last time he had seen that, Nathanaël had just put on his mask for the first time.

“You don't think this could be... you know, a way to get attention?  _ Everyone's _ been speaking about her. Chloé didn't even notice me today, which, I must remind you, is a first since I started attending.” And he would be thankful if the reason for this wasn't more troubles for him to deal with. Some unknown emotion had appeared on Nino's face, something Adrien couldn't quite identify, but he didn't like it. “I travelled quite a bit too, and honestly, that doesn't really translate to meeting a lot of people.”

“Just because  _ you _ haven't, Adrien...” Nino started to say, eyes narrowed.

“Wow, gonna stop you right here, bro. I am not in the slightest jealous of the attention Lila's getting.”

Maybe if she had tricked Marinette somehow, but after that interview with Alya, oh boy... Honestly, he might have to do some damage control instead. Still, it didn't feel bad to have confirmation that his feelings about this were pure.  _ Only human, but not a bad one. _

He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. “I'm trying to make you avoid setting yourself up for disappointment. You're right, it  _ would _ be amazing if she could set you up with Steven Spielberg, but... do you  _ really  _ think she would have that kind of influence even if she was his best friend? My father is a fashion mogul, but believe me,  _ I _ don't have the power to set up this stuff.”

Perhaps it was the moment of his father that got through Nino. Guilt flashed into his eyes, and he cast a longing look to his open planner. The questions written there had been scribbled in a frantic sort of way, like he had trouble holding still long enough to move his pencil.

It hurt like hell for Adrien to see his best friend that way. To have knowingly done that to him. But he couldn't have let that false hope fester any longer. Once it had a grip, hope clung to your back. It had  _ teeth _ .

Shredding images of closed doors opening, of a blonde woman fulfilling a promise, of the bars of a prison cell rusting to dust.

Adrien's hand began running a soothing circle in Nino's back. “Sorry...”

Nino pushed his planner away from him. “Why do you think she's lying?”

_ I can magically see when people are lying even if they don't know it. _

“Alya's interview.”

Nino looked at him in warning. He better watch his mouth while talking about said reporter-in-training.

“Okay, what was wrong with the interview?”

Adrien leaned back into his own seat, crossing his arms over his chest for effect. “Because she arrived in Paris yesterday and the last akuma attack was three days ago.”

The realization set in like a bomb. Nino's eyes went wide.

“T-there could have been another. Some akuma that got stopped before it could cause any damage.”

“Setting aside the fact that Ladybug hasn't used her restoration spell over anything either?”

“Well, they patrol, don't they?”

“Irregularly.” Which he probably wasn't supposed to know. “Well, if we can trust Alya's graphs.” Thank goodness for his powers.

Nino instinctively paled and glanced around in search for his girlfriend. Ladybug was one of those subjects on which she would charge forward with bullheaded conviction no matter what people said or thought. To demonstrate, Nino had once brought up how Alya had suspected  _ Chloé  _ of being Ladybug.

Adrien had laughed himself to tears.

“Dude! Don't say things like that where she can hear.”

“Don't worry,” he heard himself say. “She's in the computer lab editing extra footage.”

Nino was too relieved to notice the deer in headlight look Adrien had adopted. He hadn't even known before speaking up! His right hand slipped into his pocket, feeling for his miraculous. It hadn't heated up or buzzed or anything.

Well, alright, he'd just accept a small strike of good luck for once. He had convinced Nino not to keep fantasizing all day about the chance to live his dream, and the subsequent crash unto Earth.

That being said, he had the firm intention of getting to the bottom of this story.

 

\--

 

She cornered him in the library. The one place where he could take advantage of the blissful silence and not hear more  _ lies _ . The place he had chosen so he could study in peace.

“Adrien. Adrien Agreste, right?” she asked, even though he was absolutely sure she already knew the answer to that. It wasn't like his face wasn't plastered all over Paris. Or that the elusive and amazing Lila Rossi had decided to socialize with someone. “Hi, my name's Lila. I have to tell you, I always liked fashion. Why, just last month, I met Bianca Lucioni, the italian top model. The one that won first place in Beautiful People this year? My parents took me to a soirée, and we just hit off. I'd love it if we could talk about it in detail.”

He couldn't explain why, as Paon Bleu and a generally honest boy, something curdled in his chest at having a blue-shaded person running a hand over his chest. He knew people lied, frequently. But there was something in the way that Lila touched him that made him feel seen-through.

Like an ice statue.

Like a ghost.

Adrien's grasp on his pen tightened. “Well, I'm certain that would have been quite the experience,” he said with an even tone. “ _ I _ heard that she had avoided most social events following the surgery her husband had to go through.”

The temperature in the library seemed to drop a few degrees, as a moment of silence followed.

“That's... well, that's true. But this was a very exclusive event, pretty intimate, very few photographs and all that. I bet you know how that is.”

He wished. No event he had been allowed to attend before this year had been void of photographs and paparazzi, the latter even less so. And if Adrien had the misfortune of appearing in any sort of unflattering light, well, there would be words. About the image of the Agreste brand. About the age of technology and the complete inability of anyone to keep embarrassing pictures at bay once they leaked...

But since that would take a long time to explain, Adrien instead looked at Lila in the eyes and said, “I don't. I've always been followed by paparazzi, even before becoming a model.”

If he hadn't been staring right at her, he wouldn't have seen the shadow that seemed to flit in her gaze. Quickly, her eyes darted to his still open textbook, and she slid into the seat right next to him.

“You know, I just need someone to help me get up to speed with the class,” Lila said, pouting in a way that reminded him far too much of Chloé.

Ironically, she was telling the truth. Whatever rumours she had started, that shouldn't have an impact on her grades. And it wasn't like Adrien  _ couldn't _ help. He had excellent grades in most subjects. Father would stand for nothing less, even if it meant Adrien had to sacrifice a little bit of sleep after patrols to catch up.

With a sigh, Adrien asked her what subject might be problematic. Maybe it would help him too. Hadn't someone told him before that teaching others was a good way to solidify your own knowledge?

Unfortunately...

Three physic questions in, he noticed her smile slip and her disappointed sigh. She had clearly been expecting something  _ besides _ a study date.

“You wanted my help for your classes, didn't you?” he asked, one eyebrow raised in an imitation of Nathalie. “Did I misunderstand that?”

“No, no,” she was quick to say, putting on a smile and raising her hands, “this is just... difficult. I did not think you were that far ahead of me.”

The slight flicker of green was enough to make him blush. Shoot! He hadn't actually expected that! And... gosh, it was stupid but...

He couldn't remember the last time someone had complimented his intelligence rather than his looks.

But he felt a pinch on his skin, near the pockets Juuno liked to nest in. And suddenly, he could only see the tendrils of blue that tangled over Lila's silhouette. And it was such a repulsive sight, he had to understand.

“Lila.”

Red began to colour her cheeks. “Yes, Adrien?”

She didn't need to. If she tried, she wouldn't have any need for them. And the peacock in him could only wonder, with no answer in sight.

So the words came without restraint. Or tact. “Why do you lie?”

She froze. “I… what?”

“You've been telling those big stories all over the school today, and I can tell when someone is lying.”

“I-I'm not lying, Adrien. I know they may seem like unbelievable stories, but my parents are such important people that when they drag me around, I really meet the coolest celebrities!”

Adrien suppressed a shudder as he could not help think back on Chloé's favourite excuses. Her father, the mayor of Paris. Lila's excuse just rang with the same chime in his ears. But there had been a flicker of turquoise amidst the dark blue aura surrounding the girl.

“You don't. I don't know your circumstances, Lila, but I know that you're lying.”

A crossed look twisted her features, and she rose with a harsh scoff. “You're so full of yourself, Adrien  _ Agreste! _ ” she spat.

But when she turned to leave, Adrien grabbed her hand.

“Let me go!”

“Lila,” he said softly, “you didn't answer me. Why did you lie so much? The only thing I know about you is that your parents and you move a lot. You've been to America, to most countries in Europe and once in Japan. Why do you need to lie on top of it? Is it not good enough?”

“You wouldn't understand!” Lila spat, pulling her arm closer and forcing Adrien to stand. “You're already famous! Do you get that?! People know who you are! They walk down the street and they  _ stop _ when they notice you!”

His fingers loosened and she held her hand close to her chest, her green eyes dancing with that furious glare.

“I… Yeah. They do that. Sometimes,” Adrien admitted, trying not to wrinkle his nose. “I wish they would stop.”

Adrien suddenly had to recoil, his eyes going wide at the finger pointed straight at his nose. “That's the part!” Lila quickly rubbed her cheeks, sniffling. “That's the thing people like you always say. That you don't like the admiration, that you would prefer a little quiet life on the side. And you just… you never think what it's like to  _ live _ in your shadow! Do you think being ignored is fun?!”

She wasn't talking about him anymore. It was about two someones that might be too busy to even see the effect of their jobs on their daughter. Come to think of it, his father cast a pretty large shadow over the whole fashion industry himself. He'd never really resented that though, it wasn't a matter of recognition. Adrien was involved in the world of fashion in his own way, and seen in his own right as a model, if a child one. His issues with his dad's job had never been about being stuck inside Father's shadow. Would he feel differently if he wasn't a model?

“You're right. I don't really know.” -- Lila blinked, shocked, then smug. -- “I know I'm famous. People at the school have mostly gotten used to me, but if I go outside… You're right. So, tell me.”

The satisfaction on her face slipped and she took a step back, bumping into the library shelf. There was a squeak – hers? – and the girl glanced at the exit.

“I can't… I can't speak to you about that.”

“Okay…” He might not want to let it go, but he couldn't force the truth out of her, and he shouldn't even if he could. “Alright. Just promise me you won't lie anymore, okay? It really hurts when people realize that your promises are empty.”

“What does it matter anyway?” The girl screamed, tears of frustration rolling on her cheeks. “It's just until my parents get assigned somewhere else and they drag me to another part of the world to be goddamned alone! I'll just leave all those people behind and they'll forget me in a week! No one ever remembers me!”

With a mournful cry of rage, the girl collapsed into a pile of sobs and shaking limbs.

Adrien outstretched his hand first, then retracted it, too unsure if he had the right to. Would she want his help? He was one of those people she hated. Someone famous enough to be noticed.

But Adrien had wanted to scream ' _ Look at me!' _ for years now. It didn't matter to him what strangers saw or not; the person that mattered did not. So, he put on a small smile and sat just next to her. Close, but not close enough to be touching.

“My Father often acts like I'm just one of his employees, you know?”

Lila looked up from beneath her arms. “What?”

“He asks his assistant to make my schedule, to look over my dietary needs, to watch over me during the day, to inform me of new shoots. I spend far more time with her than with him. I...” Adrien looked at his hands, grasping empty air. “I need to make appointments to meet my father, and we live in the same house. I wish he would just look at me.”

A warm hand fell over his left arm. “Adrien… Look, I…”

She couldn't come up with the words.

His hand found hers, gently. “I didn't tell you so we would exchange stories and compare misery. I'm not asking you to tell me anything. I just want you to know that when you are ready, I'll listen and I'll try to understand. I won't be perfect, but I will make efforts. I don't like it when people are lonely, you included.”

“I should… Maybe I should go.” Lila was fumbling with her hands, her words, unable to put her thoughts in order. She barked a laugh. A bitter, harsh laugh. “Wow, I, I just feel shallow now.”

He frowned at her tone. “No, you're not. You're hurt and there's a difference. Don't be guilty for feeling something.”

The red covering her cheeks didn't subdue, but the distress had, and maybe the beginning of a smile had found its way on her face. Almost shy, reserved, but true.

He thought it was a prettier smile than the one she had showed everyone else today.

“Lila, come with me, okay?” She looked at his outstretched hand with a startled hesitation. “We'll go back to the class, and you'll tell them which stories were lies and which ones weren't.”

“W-what? No, Adrien! They'll all hate me!”

He bit his lips, knowing she had the right of it. Mostly. Yet he refused to bulge. “...They're going to be angry. At first. But trust me, even if you get off from the wrong foot with people, they'll come around eventually.”

For a long time, Lila remained as still as a statue. She didn't dare hope. She had hoped before. It was written on her face.

Adrien suddenly wanted to slap her parents, whoever they were.

“And… okay, even if they do hate you, I won't. I promise. You won't be alone. And if you are remembered once you leave, it will be for the _right_ reasons.”

Lila's fingers closed over his own.

 

\--

 

He had to admit, he felt ridiculously proud when Lila stood in front of the class, her head bowed in apology, and she flashed a bright, luminous shade of turquoise.

It had been easy to grin and give a thumbs-up to the girl, and her cheeks had flushed slightly. When she made her way up to her seat at the back of the class, with most of the students either glaring or judging, Lila hadn't paid them much mind. She had sit down next to Nathanaël, next to  _ Chat Noir _ , and only glanced back to Adrien's seat.

He kept up the encouraging smile. It had been a promise between the two of them.

“Dude, why are you so friendly with Lila?” Nino had proceeded to ask, having had front row seat to his encouragement of the girl. “She just admitted to lying to most of the school. You're the one that convinced me she was lying this morning.”

“Well… I've been a new transfer student too, Nino. It's not that easy. And I know for a fact that most of the people that lie don't admit it, so she has more guts than a lot of people.”

Nino chuckled a bit nervously at that, and absolutely did not meet Alya's suspicious gaze.

“Okay, right, but it's usually about  _ small, insignificant things _ , _ I swear, Alya. _ ”

She descended on him with the righteous fury of a war goddess. “Oh, I'll be the judge of that, Nino. Now spill!”

Adrien would freely say that he deserved the kick to the shin from his betrayed best friend. He still laughed.

 

\--

 

It was one of those rare moments, one where all three heroes of Paris meet on the roof of Notre-Dame, with nothing on their plates. Their sweetheart of a city was giving them some much needed respite. There hadn't been an akuma attack in a few days. They usually were wary of times of peace, feeling that Hawk Moth had to be plotting in the shadows. But tonight, they allowed themselves to feel the relief of a simple night amongst close friends.

Also, snacks, because Marinette lived in a bakery and she was the best supreme leader ever!

Frankly, he knew his father would risk an aneurysm if he ever learned that Adrien had eaten more than three  _ éclairs _ in one sitting, but then again, that would have meant finding out his precious doll-like son was a superhero fighting supervillains. Yeah, he would have other worries than the  _ éclairs _ then.

“Hungry, featherbrain?” Chat Noir teased, wiping chocolate from his own cheeks.

“Famished. I only had a healthy salad for dinner tonight.”

Grilled chicken salad with a truffle drizzle, but still. A salad. He was jumping around on rooftops, for Truth's sake!

“Well, I definitely need to bring more of these then,” Ladybug chimed in, waving a plastic bag full of treats in front of them. “Can't let my boys go hungry on my watch.”

They heartily agreed. Honestly, he needed to find some way to convince Nathalie to order from the Dupain-Cheng bakery more often. Caramel. Éclairs. He could just die and ascend into heavens, and he would bet it would smell like those delicious gooey treats.

“I couldn't possibly love you more than I do now.” He dropped down to one knee, smiling as widely as his partners did. The theatrics were always good fun, and he rather liked playing up the part of the knight to his princess'. So, as gently as if he were holding on the most precious thing in the world, he took her hand in his. “But for poesy's sake, let's agree to say that this idea would make you even more of a shining beacon of light in my miserable existence.”

“You sap.” She hit him on the shoulder. Not too hard.

And they all descended into giggles.

“What can I say? I can only tell it like it is. It is my curse,” he said, throwing himself backward, one hand on his forehead. “Woe is the one that wears the peacock's brooch.”

“Woe is those that must listen to him,” Chat Noir snorted.

Ladybug smirked, clearly repressing a laugh, the light in her eyes dancing. “Need some aloe, Birdie?”

“You two may tease me all you want,” he said as he jumped onto a gargoyle to dramatically look at the city, “but deep down, I know that you couldn't face this without my moral support. Thus, I lay at night happy, knowing I have found my place!”

There was some more snickering, maybe a cookie or two thrown at one head or two, and the red sunset on the horizon painting the sky pink and orange. By the time they had gone through Marinette's boon, a more peaceful dark blue had started spreading to the sky above them. No stars – not in Paris –, but they felt the vastness of the world regardless.

All three of them, sitting side-by-side atop the cathedral, their skin caressed by the wind. There was a magic to that.

“Paon?”

“Yes, Princess?” he replied smoothly as he sat down next to her.

Ladybug's gaze was on Paris. On the city that never slept. Their very own protectorate. Her kingdom, he would privately think to himself. She certainly looked at it that way, most nights.

Not tonight. She wasn't looking at the citizens they protected. She was avoiding looking at  _ him. _

“Do you think people lie for good reasons?”

The ease within him slowly faded.

“I…” Paon paused, his eyes meeting Chat Noir's. Was Nath thinking of the same thing as him? “Well, for one, Juuno lets me tell white lies to keep my secret identity, so I can say that even the kwami of Truth think there might be a good reason. And, okay, being  _ absolutely  _ honest, I am very glad I can actually lie by omission.”

“Wait, you do that?” Marinette had apparently forgotten whatever torment had been making her avoid his gaze. “I mean, I thought you couldn't.”

Now his smirk grew bitter. “Well, if I couldn't, then all I would be doing would be speaking. Non-stop. Every second of every day. No thought left unsaid.”

“So, nothing would change then?” she deadpanned, and both Adrien and Nathanaël chuckled.

“You know you love me and wouldn't change me for the world.” He preened. “Why do you ask, Princess? Are you thinking about our masks?”

They heard the rustling of leather together, and the three of them were suddenly sitting a little closer.

“Actually, it has nothing to do with secret identity. There was a new girl in my class today, and she kept telling more and more lies to look more self-important than she was.”

Chat Noir whipped his head toward Ladybug so fast Paon flinched. Oh… Oh boy…

His sweet Princess hadn't noticed, too absorbed by the guilty memories, her gaze unto the city she had sworn to protect. If he didn't stop her now, she would be blowing her secret identity to her beloved partners without even realizing it.

“P-Princess! Isn't that a little personal?” he called out in a nervous voice, willing both of his teammates to stop being oblivious.

“It… it probably is. You're right.” Ladybug lowered her head and hugged herself. “I just… I could not help judging her, Paon. I knew she had been lying, and everyone admired her for knowing so many famous people, and… and she lied about me. She said I was her best friend. Everyone kept buying it.”

Chat Noir flinched, his face under the mask now turning a shade of red matching his hair. “I… I think I might know that girl, Ladybug…”

Ladybug's jaw dropped, and she shot wild looks between the two of them. The poor girl had rarely appeared so mortified. It was at her insistence that they kept the rule about secret identities. Perhaps if she knew about Paon's own secret…

He would have to tell her soon. He could keep his mouth shut. The fact she hadn't noticed meant he was good at it too. She could choose to keep things as they were, and Paon wouldn't protest.

“Maybe I'm saying too much…” she said, cautious now.

“I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to pry.” Chat Noir sounded absolutely miserable. “Today, I… I didn't really think about it. I figured you had just been friendly to this one civilian. I bet I was one of those annoying guys today.”

“Chat Noir,” Ladybug whispered and moaned, distress now apparent on her features. “I didn't mean it like that. I wasn't annoyed at others. Just… just at her.”

_ You and me both,  _ he wanted to say. “We both know you hate liars, Princess.”

Ladybug laughed, and it rang hollow. “But you know what? I was so angry that I followed her around while she tried casting her spell over this guy I… one of my friends… and I overheard why she kept doing it. The next thing I knew, she was in front of the class, owing it, telling everyone that yes, she had lied and that she wasn't proud of it and that she'd start working to earn our trust back.” The teenaged girl ran a gloved hand in her hair, tired as if the weight of Paris had crashed on top of her. “I felt so petty. I think I would have just yelled at her until she ran away. And she'd have never gotten better.”

Silence fell between them.

“People lie all the time, Princess. I mean, I stopped listening to news about politics. Knowing that politicians lie is one thing, feeling it in your guts every time they push an agenda or ignore someone else's? It's very different. So, for ordinary people, I'm trying not to hold it against them. I know it happens. It's wrong, but it's how it is. The Truth is a scary thing. Not everyone wants to brave it.”

Chat Noir chuckled, and Adrien felt the cat-boy's claws poke his ribs teasingly. “Are you trying to pay yourself a compliment there?”

First, Adrien blinked at the abrupt change of tone. But then, at Ladybug's faux-horrified gasp, he knew they were determined to laugh at him. And feel better, but mostly mock their dear beloved peacock. Very well. He'd give them a show.

“Ah!” he barked, standing up in an outstandingly fashionable manner. “As if! If I didn't have Juuno breathing down my neck, I'd be lying my butt off at every single opportunity! I'd say that I believe Chloé Bourgeois' ego is very reasonable, that the moon is made of cheese and that you two aren't the best leaders a little peacock like me could dream of.”

He didn't get laughter for that.

“Damn it, Paon.” The poor boy rubbed his eyes, sniffing softly. “Do you know what hearing that feels like coming from one of your idols?”

_ Oh, _ was Adrien's sole thought as a train of affection and warm bubbly feelings ran him over,  _ it must have been similar to this. _

“Sorry, not sorry?” he said as he patted Chat Noir's back.

“Look at you both. My boys talking about their feelings! I love it.” Ladybug's malicious grin sent them shiver all over. “So much blackmail material being handed to me on a silver platter!”

“I will never yield to your dirty evil tricks, Princess! And I will reveal all of Chat Noir's secret before you can exploit his naive heart!”

Paon flinched as he was hit by a silver baton. What? It was true. So much easier to fess up to some blackmail material than letting it accumulate for the years to come. He would be doing Chat Noir a  _ favor _ . 

Whilst also getting revenge. Nothing said a peacock couldn’t be practical. 

Ladybug snapped her fingers together. “Damn, foiled again.”

“Stick to doing good, Ladybug,” Chat Noir said. “You suck at being evil.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

Eh, for a superhero, it certainly was. 

“Speaking of not being evil,” -- He grinned and stretched his arms. -- “how about we help the good citizens of Paris with our magnificent athletic skills?”

 

\--

 

Total tally of the night?

One robbery, three muggings, and one drunk driver.

Not too shabby, if he said so himself. After all, they had started later than usual. Normal. Only a robot wouldn’t take a break to appreciate some delicious pastries. Or some sort of highly trained monk! He was neither.

And now, on his way back, he was beginning to fantasize about his bed, and for arguments that could convince Nathalie to get a catering contract with the Dupain-Cheng bakery. 

“Paon Bleu!”

That was neither Ladybug or Chat Noir. 

Concerned, Paon rolled on his next landing instead of jumping and came to a halt over the rooftop. Seconds later, another pair of boots landed just behind him. 

He turned, halfway into a question when he noticed the very characteristical not-spandex form fitting outfit. Orange and white all over, with fox ears and a tail, and a  _ mask _ . 

And an over eager look of awe on her face. “Hi, I mean, good morning, I mean, good evening!”

Her excited stutter did nothing to ease the pool of extremely bad feelings about this in his stomach. “Hi?”

“Hi!” The girl waved before putting her hands down together on her lap. “I'm one of your new teammates! I'm Volpina!”

Paon eyed the familiar brown hair, the blinding awestruck smile, the tremors in her hands that reflected in her nervous tone of voice. Right now, he was very close to cursing Juuno's glamour piercing powers. But not quite. There was still a chance that he was seeing a connection when it was only a coincidence.

He almost didn't dare to ask. “Volpina?”

Said superheroine nodded quickly, her smile still firmly in place despite the flash of nervousness edging in her eyes. Her familiar green eyes.

“That's me. Holder of the Fox Miraculous.”

The fox-girl flashed green.

Adrien paled under his mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adrien, Adrien, Adrien, I'm just saying, but maybe your little discussion with Lila worked out too well.

**Author's Note:**

> This work has been inspired by imthepunchlord's work. You can find their series "Always a hero, no matter the miraculous" down below.
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/imthepunchlord/pseuds/imthepunchlord
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/series/529792


End file.
